Meaning
by Rach shutup
Summary: TUE AU. Danny knows what will happen if he gives up on his humanity, and so tries to hold on to the little he has left. In growing danger of his secret being blown wide open, he takes risks that could end his life. Eventual VladxDanny  Danny age 18  .
1. The End

_(This is a re-write of a fic I wrote on my old account, 'liquid butterfly'. It was originally father/son orientated, but I am so over that.)  
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_Delicious slash appears later on.  
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><p>Danny stared at the charred remains of the people he loved. Some of them were burned almost beyond recognition, some even had bits missing. And the smell, he couldn't <em>stand<em> the smell.

He tried to convince himself that these burnt out bodies weren't his family, that they were just six random people who conveniently happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He tried to convince himself that this wasn't happening because it _couldn't_ be happening.

How could this be happening?

These were people he loved. These were people who had personalities. These were people who did stuff, invented things, had fun and felt things. These people had lived complex and real lives, lives they shared with Danny. How could all that be gone, just like that?

But the obvious couldn't be denied, from Jazz's red hair and blackened green headband to Tucker's PDA, from his parent's matching wedding rings (complete with inscriptions) to Mr. Lancer's... Well, he hadn't really paid much attention.

And as for Sam, he couldn't even tell. They outright refused to let him see her, telling him that no good could come from it as she was too badly burned. They said they would have to use dental records, and Danny felt sick.

The pathologist assigned to the case approached Danny, and shook his hand firmly. "Mr Fenton, hello again, I've come to confirm that the deceased are who we believe them to be. Are you ready?" If he was honest, this big shot _morgue-guy_ didn't sound sympathetic in the least. In fact, he sound disinterested. Danny nodded.

"Can you confirm that the male and two females are the following people: Jack Fenton, Madeline Fenton, and Jasmine Fenton?" He sounded like he was reading some kind of boring business agenda; something dull uninteresting that he couldn't really be bothered to do, but had to do anyway.

He didn't want to answer, _God, he didn't_. The second he answered then it was all over, it meant they were officially dead and there was no going back. Part of him wanted to lie, say '_No, I've never seen these people in my life'_. That way, there would be a huge search for his '_missing_' loved ones, and then there would be _hope_. Hope that maybe, one day, they would find them, and they wouldn't be dead and this would have all been some kind of twisted mind game that Danny played on himself, because he was stressed or something.

But that was unrealistic because it _was _them. They were dead, and he couldn't change that. They weren't anywhere else in the world; they were here, cold and dead on these horrible metal tables.

"It's them." Danny said, forcing the two words out and trying to ignore the surge of emotions that came with them that seemed to be hitting him like a tidal wave.  
>"Are you absolutely sure?" He mentally cursed the guy for making him repeat himself, as if the first time wasn't hard enough. What a jerk, what <em>a complete<em> jerk.  
>"Without a doubt, I'm sure." He clenched his fist, tightened his jaw. He was <em>not<em> going to cry, crying was a sign of weakness, and _Danny Phantom_ could not afford to be weak.

Danny couldn't be weak, now especially, because now he was alone, now he had no one to watch his back, no one to catch him when he fell, no one to patch him up and boost his confidence when he was defeated, no one to mourn him when he was gone.

"Mr Foley's parents will be in soon to identify the fourth body, but you would be saving me a lot of time if you could do it for me right now."

"It's him, but you don't need me or his parents for that, his PDA has all the information you need..." He trailed off_. Damn, his PDA. It didn't just have Tucker's information on it. It had Danny Phantom's too._ "Actually, forget that. I think he deleted those files and it's probably smashed to bits now anyway. It's him."

"Thank you for your help, sir. I should inform you that the police are treating this case as suspicious, so you won't be able to claim any personal belongings just yet."

"There's a case?" He knew it was selfish, but an investigation was something he really couldn't handle right now. It meant that important people would be looking at the fine details of his life, which would make it significantly harder to keep his half-ghost secret hidden.

"Yes, against the '_Nasty Burger_'. Any food outlet that uses such volatile chemicals in its condiments... Well, let's just say that if I were you, I'd be expecting a _whole lot_ of compensation." Danny felt his throat constrict, _as if_ he wanted to think about money right now. "Anyway, I just need your signature on this form and you're free to go."

Danny nodded tightly and signed the form, barely managing to control his shaking hands. He offered a polite smile, and headed for the door. He had to get out of here.

'"Was it quick?" He said suddenly, refusing eye contact and still facing the door.

"Undoubtedly, yes. The temperatures generated by the explosion were colossal. They would have died more or less on impact with the heat. You can rest assured that they felt very little pain, if any at all."

"Thanks." He left, and didn't look back.


	2. The Journey Begins

He left the building deep in thought. On the off chance that Tucker's PDA was still in working order, or even remotely readable, he had to get his hands on it before anyone else did. He knew full well that the handheld device contained dangerous and _potentially incriminating_ information about Danny, namely his true identity. Sure, it wasn't written in black and white, but as soon as the investigators got a look in, it wouldn't be hard to put one and two together.

Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom; the connection couldn't be more obvious to make.

Not to mention all the ghost-related information on there – ghost related information that, if in the wrong hands, could do series damage to Danny that could even be fatal.

Needless to say, he was very deep in thought. It helped, because it meant that he didn't have to think about Tucker. He didn't have to think about his best friend who lay dead and cold in a morgue with half his face burned off.

So he didn't notice when he almost walked into the petite blonde social worker, flicking through a blue A4 file labelled 'Daniel Fenton'.

"Ah, Daniel, it's nice to see you in person. I'd just like to express how sorry I am for your loss. My name is Annette Jones and I'll be your social worker until you're settled in at your new home." She juggled her hang bag and the files to get a free hand to shake Danny's with.

"Nice to meet you, you can just call me Danny, but I don't understand. What do you mean by 'my new home'?" As if he didn't already know. His phone started vibrating in his pocket, but he ignored it.

"Oh! Of course, I just assumed that – Well, never mind, it's not important. When you were born, your parents had to assign a godparent, and they those a family friend of yours." She seemed to be beating around the bush, so Danny decided to jump right in.

"Let me guess, it wouldn't be _Vlad Masters_ by any chance?" He tried his best not to sound put off by this, but he couldn't deny that he was as he knew full well of the risks involved in living with Vlad. He knew that if he wasn't careful, then that _monster _would be born. Truth be told, he was hoping to avoid the possibility all together.

"Oh, yes! Did your parents tell you?"

"Isn't there anyone else, don't I have any extended family or anything?" He crossed his fingers behind his back. _Please, just this one thing._

"I'm afraid not. Why, is there a problem with living with Vlad Masters? It's my job to ensure your welfare as I'm sure you already know, if there has been any _indecent _behaviour..."

"No! _Hell_ no, nothing like that. I just..." _Think of something_, "He's a very busy guy, that's all. I heard he'd running for mayor of Amity Park, and he owns so many businesses and all that. I don't want to be a burden, that's all."

"Nonsense, I spoke to him a few minutes ago, he's more than happy to put a roof over your head."

"That figures." Danny said thoughtlessly, before correcting himself. "He's such a _nice guy_, after all."

She laughed politely, and continued. "I've arranged for you to fly to Wisconsin in the morning, and I've managed to get you a hotel room for the night."

"Why can't I just go home?"

"Oh, honey. Your home is a crime scene. Besides, you're only seventeen and you've just lost your parents. Are you sure home is the best place to be right now?"

Danny was about to open his mouth to protest, but decided against it. There was little point in arguing at this point. After all, his home wouldn't be his _home_ for much longer anyway.

She placed a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder. "Come on, let's get going. We can stop off at your house on the way and pick up anything you need, I'm sure the police won't mind." She winked at him. "And if they do... Well, we'll just have to be sneaky about it, won't we?"

He followed her to a rather large silver Jeep that was taller than she was. It would have been funny had the situation been different. He climbed in and took the seat next to her.

His phone was vibrating again.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" She said as she fastened her seatbelt and started the engine. "It could be important."

He faced the window and rolled his eyes. He had a pretty good idea who was calling and frankly, he just wasn't in the mood right now.

"No one I care about could _possibly _be calling me." He said solemnly. She shot him a concerned look, before turning her attention to the road.

"Fair enough."

_Well, there was one person. _


	3. The Best Social Worker Ever

When they arrived at The Fenton Works, it was just as they had left it - that is, apart from the crime scene tape and the police officer standing outside.

Danny reached for the car door.

"Wait!" Annette exclaimed. She smiled at him, and then turned the mirror to her. She took off her glasses and started taking off her suit jacket.

"What? What are you doing?"

"Danny, _sweetheart,_ this place is a crime scene. We can't just waltz in there." She reached into her hand bag and pulled out a deep red Dior lipstick.

"And you taking your clothes off will help us how? You might not have noticed, but there is a _police officer _standing right there. He will never let us go in."

"And _you_ might not have noticed, but that police officer right there is a single male, and probably has been for quite some time." She laughed cheekily, and made a few more alterations to her appearance. She let her hair down and undid her shirt so that just a hint of a red bra was showing. She hitched up her skirt a little and then reached under the seat, pulling out a pair of sky-high black heels. "For emergencies" she laughed.

Danny raised an eyebrow, had another look at the police officer, and then back at Annette.  
>"How can you tell?"<p>

"Call it woman's intuition. Come on, let's go. Oh, and don't forget to pick up your passport."

As they approached him, it became increasingly obvious why he was single. He looked to be in his late thirties, and had an _astounding _amount of facial hair to the likes of which would put _Cousin It_ to shame. He had a somewhat prominent beer belly and then there was the _obligatory_ lack of a wedding ring. He had laminated card attached to his shirt, just below his police badge, that read _'Richards, Chuck' _followed by a few lines of irrelevant policing information.

"Hey there, Chuck. How's it going?" Annette said in an almost whisper, tilting her head to the side and smiling like a fox. 'Chuck', as it was, looked rather sheepish.

"Hello yourself Ma'am, it's very kind of you to ask, but this is a restricted area so I am afraid that I am going to have to ask you and your younger brother to leave."

She replied by giggling slightly, and running a gentle hand down his chest. "But Chuck, we're only just getting to know each other. My name is Annette, by the way." At this point, the police officer was paying far too much attention to what her hands were doing to notice Danny slipping off to the side. "How long have you been on the job, Chuck?"

Danny slipped around the back of the house. Now that he was out of sight, there was little point in sneaking around. He looked around for any potential witnesses, and upon deciding that the coast was clear, became intangible and walked right through the wall.

The only lighting in the house was from the streetlights outside. It was so dark outside, what time was it, anyway? He took out his phone to check, and was quite shocked to see that it was 9.45pm, but not near as shocked as he was to see that he had a total of_ eleven_ missed calls from Vlad's number, and one text message. He bit his lip and opened the message.

"_I'm worried about you. Please answer your phone. Vlad" _

He pushed it aside. After all, he was in the middle of something.

_I'm worried about you._

He glanced out of the window and gave the thumbs up to Annette. She nodded in his general direction, still talking to Chuck.

He rushed upstairs and grabbed an old duffel bag, shoving into it the essentials. He threw in a few T-shirts, pairs of jeans, socks, underwear and a hoodie. He opened the drawer on his bedside table and slipped out his passport.

First and foremost, he'd have to secure the lab. He headed down there and began implementing various locks on the ghost postal. Pass keys, eye scanning mechanisms, fingerprinting, you name it – _no one_ was getting in that portal apart from Danny, nor was anything getting out of it. It scarcely bore thinking about what would happen if the government _– specifically the guys in white_ – had access to the ghost zone.

He looked around the room and was taken aback by just how many memories were here. Over the past few years, he'd spent so much time in this room, depositing ghosts, training, helping his parents, even tinkering with his own experiments (_though few were ever successful_). He felt something unpleasant rise in his throat, and forced it back down again_. No_, he could not afford to slip right now; he had too much to do in too little time.

_I'm worried about you._

He spotted the Fenton Thermos drawer, and stuffed three or so in his bag, along with the BOO-merang and a few other important-looking devices.

And now it was time to say goodbye. He transformed into his alter ego and, within seconds, the entire laboratory was all but incinerated, leaving only the ghost portal – barely functioning and locked to high hell. The armies of _Genghis Kahn_ couldn't get through those doors.

He was about to leave, when he spotted a photograph, innocently sitting on the windowsill.

On the photo were his parents, himself, Sam, Tucker and Vlad _(for some reason_), all smiling and looking completely happy.

_He honestly felt like crying as he slid it into his bag. _


	4. Wash It All Away

When he got back to the car, he beeped the horn** loudly**. The police officer jumped, and Annette visibly sighed in relief. She peeled Chuck's hands away from her waist and said goodbye, sauntering back to the car as if she was on the catwalk.

"Oh my _god_, that man was _repulsive_. He wanted to meet me after work and take me back to his place, then he started going on about what he was going to do to me when we got there. I'm telling you, you got out here just in the nick of time." She took her shoes off and re-buttoned her blouse. "Did you get everything you needed?"

"Yeah, thanks for that. You have to be the best social worker in the world." He mustered up the best smile he could, and hoped it would cut it.

"Aw, that's so kind!" She said as she started the car. "I care a lot about my job. I guess I just want to make that extra bit of difference, you know? I grew up in care too, and my social worker was a complete and utter _bitch_."

"Go on"

"My stepfather was the sort who enjoyed a drink... And he was violent. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks." She smiled unconvincingly. "I don't want any other child to go through what I did."

"That's very inspiring. I can tell you are a really good person."

"I like to think so, and I think you are too." She turned to him and smiled. "Here we are. It's not exactly the Ritz, but it's fairly nice. I stayed here for a while when I was assigned my first case here in Amity Park." She put her sensible shoes back on and pushed the killer heels back under the seat. "We'd better go."

It was really quite dark outside and it was raining ever so slightly. They got out of the car and headed to the main entrance of the hotel.

It was rather plain on the outside, just a large building with the letters "HOTEL" printed on the front, with four stars under the name. Danny was no hotelier, probably because most of this family vacations were spent in the Fenton RV or in tent studying ghost activity. He hated every second he spend on uncomfortable makeshift beds, either cramped in the RV, cramped in a tent or, _worst case scenario,_ outside 'under the stars'. He abstractly thought that as strange as it may be, he was going to greatly miss those vacations.

The lobby was very nice. The floors were tiled in some kind of marble-like stone, and there were brown obviously-expensive leather sofas and large potted plants. There was a huge fountain centrepiece bang in the middle of it all, with a large sign reading 'Welcome'. There were important-looking people dotted around going through files and typing into laptops.

In truth, Danny had no idea what the Ritz was, but this place surely couldn't be far off.

They approached the reception. A man stood behind the counter, looking mostly bored.

"Good evening, can I help you?"

"Yes, my name is Annette Jones and I booked a room over the phone earlier tonight under the name 'Fenton'."

"Ah, just let me check."

Danny wandered over to a large TV that was pinned to the wall. It was the news coverage of what had happened earlier that night at the Nasty Burger. He was distracted by his phone vibrating once more. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Vlad's number on the screen. He frowned as he slid the phone back into his pocket. He couldn't keep doing this. He was going to see Vlad in less than 24 hours, there was very little to gain from avoiding his calls.

"Here we go." Annette said as she handed Danny the keys to his room. "Room 334, he says it's on the third floor, and to turn right when you get out of the elevator, okay?"

"Yes, and thank you Annette, for everything" He smiled at her, genuinely.

"It's my pleasure to help. Here's my card, if you need anything, give me a call without hesitation." She placed the card in Danny's hand, but didn't let go, and smiled sadly. "I know things look impossibly awful right now, but everything will work out okay, Danny. I promise." She tightened her grip on his hand, before releasing it.

"The taxi will be outside at 10am sharp tomorrow morning to take you to the air port." She turned to leave, and then turned back again. "Oh my, I'm such an idiot." She said, whilst rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a plane ticket. "I almost forgot to give you your plane ticket!"

Danny took the plane ticket and let out a small laugh. "Thanks. I'll see you around."

"I hope so, Danny, I really do."

* * *

><p>His room was really quite nice. The first thing he noticed was how big the bed was. Everything was crisp and white, clean to the point of obsession.<p>

He dumped his stuff on the floor next to the bed and took out some clean clothes, before heading to the shower.

He hadn't had time to wash since the explosion. What with being hauled into an ambulance and then to the morgue, he really didn't have much chance to do anything at all.

The bathroom was fairly basic. A toilet and sink with a large mirror and various complimentary toiletries. He picked up the bottle labelled 'shampoo and conditioner', as well as a bar of soap and a sponge, and turned on the shower.

It looked so very warm and inviting as he took off his wrecked clothing. The usually white T-shirt was singed and covered in ash and blood and god knows what, we were his jeans. His converse survived, but could really do with a bit of a clean.

It was only now that he could see the full extent of the damage done by both the battle and the explosion. His ribs were quite badly bruised, going on the shades of purple on his skin. He had various scratches and scrapes all over the place. He had a rather deep gash on his shoulder and his lip he was sporting a split lip. Other than that, he seemed to have gotten off lightly. At least he was still alive, others weren't so lucky.

He climbed in the shower and winced as the water penetrated his various injuries, before he started to get used to it, and enjoy the feeling of the warm water on his skin. It felt nice, it was relaxing.

The water going down the plug hole was a disgusting mixture of blood and dirt, _mostly blood_. That couldn't be healthy. That being said, he did let the paramedics give him the once over. Well, sort of.

...

Okay, he didn't. He sat there for five or so minutes whilst they rambled on about smoke inhalation and some other rubbish, let them shine a light in his eyes, the standard stuff. As soon as they were looking in the opposite direction, he bolted to the scene of the explosion and, needless to say, regretted it almost instantaneously. He was met with the most horrific_, disturbing_ sight that he'd ever seen _– and he'd seen every instalment of Final Destination to date. _

A gut wrenching sob somehow escaped from deep in his chest where he'd been keeping it contained since the explosion. He was, without doubt, utterly devastated. He slapped a hand over his mouth, blinked hard, and breathed deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth – or was it in through the mouth and out through the nose? He could feel it coming. A pure, violent, raging panic was growing inside of him, he could feel despair clawing at the surface and he wasn't quite sure how to stop it.

But he had to, right? If he let grief and sorrow sink its teeth into him, then it would never let go, and he would drown in it. And that all sounded very depressing and, _sure_, teenagers kill themselves all the time. It's a tough world out there and shit happens. But this was different – he wouldn't just be killing himself, he'd be destroying everything because that monster would be born and he'd kill everyone in his path. _Not fun. _

He had to focus on other things, and what better to focus on than obtaining Tucker's PDA.


	5. A Plan In Motion

It seemed quite simple, actually. He'd go-ghost and fly to the morgue, invisibly of course, use his intangibility to infiltrate said establishment, steal the PDA, and return to the hotel.

And the panic attack had died down, too. He was feeling quite optimistic about the whole deal. All he had to do was keep pushing 'current events' to the back of his mind. If he didn't think about his family and friends, then they wouldn't haunt him.

Or so he thought.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He hadn't realised just how dirty his skin was until he looked in the mirror and abstractly noted how clean he looked. After getting dressed, he headed back into the bedroom to retrieve a Fenton Thermos (just in case), and headed out.

It was a refreshing feeling to fly. Perhaps it was the way the wind brushed seemingly through every pore and every hair on his body, or maybe it had something to do with the wide open space and the freedom that being able to fly gave him. It didn't really matter, but it felt good.

He looked down on the mostly sleeping city, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn't a part of it. He felt like an outsider, and he kind of was. Before when he flew over this city, it was where his family home was, it was where his mom and his dad had lived for years, where they had spent their married lives building a laboratory that started in the basement and ended up on the roof, visible from miles away. He knew the aerial route to where Sam lived, she had a beautiful home, even if it was a little _Stepford-Wives_. And Tucker's house, where he'd spent hours with his best friend playing video games and watching scary movies that they weren't yet old enough to watch. Tucker's house was like a second home to him... Now it was just an old house with a bed that would never get slept in again and a couple who had lost their only child.

It hurt to think like that.

As he was approaching the morgue, he noticed a light in one of the windows. Curious, he flew towards it.

The room he found himself in was just like the one he was in before; tiled floors, tables with bodies on them covered by white sheets, uncomfortably cold, nothing especially interesting.

A guy was sitting on a chair presumably watching TV, but upon closer inspection, he was sleeping like a log. Danny couldn't help but grin, some poor sucker was paying this guy to watch TV and sleep.

He looked around the room and spotted a somewhat large cabinet with a drawer that read '_personal possessions of the deceased'_. He crossed his fingers and prayed to whatever god was out there that the drawer would open easily and quietly, that Tucker's PDA would be in there and that he'd be able to leave swiftly and unnoticed.

No such luck.

He pulled it harder, causing it to rattle loudly. He was scared out of his skin by a choked snore and turned around to see the morgue attendant waking up.

He quickly turned invisible and hid behind the cabinet for good measure.

When he heard nothing, he poked his head around the edge and let out a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding when he saw that the attendant was sleeping once more.

This was going to be more complicated than he thought.

The PDA was obviously in this drawer, there was no doubt about it. But the drawer was locked. He could reach in there intangibly and hope for the best, but what if it was full of files? What if there was something gross in there like a used condom or a half eaten sandwich? Did he really want to risk blindly reaching in there and grabbing something disgusting?

Perhaps he could retrieve the key from the morgue attendant... but did he really want to reach into _those_ trouser pockets? _Hell _no.

He could turn the entire cabinet intangible, but that would cause everything in there to fall right on out. Imagine what a racket that would cause. The attendant would wake up, and he'd have seconds to find the PDA before the guy would start freaking out.

There was no other solution. He'd have to move the cabinet, turn it intangible, retrieve the contents and then blindly shove everything back in and hope for the best.

There was one problem with this plan. How was the supposed to move the cabinet without making any noise?

He wrapped his arms around it and, with every ounce of strength, lifted it. He made it approximately half way across the room before losing his footing, and dramatically fell over, taking the cabinet with him.

How embarrassing.

The morgue attendant bolted up right, looking right at the cabinet strangely in the middle of the room.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" He yelled in a frightened tone, pulling out his walkie-talkie and frantically pressing the button yelling "Security, security!"

Danny panicked. If they found the cabinet half way across the room, they'd think it was suspicious. They'd take it away and lock it in an everything-proof vault and throw away the key. They'd pick through everything inside of it with a fine toothed comb until they came across the PDA, which would be when they'd discover everything they needed to know about Danny Phantom's attributes and weaknesses, which they would use to kick his ass until there would be no ass left to kick.

Breathe.

He made the cabinet intangible and watched as everything fell out. It turned out that he was right about the filing system, as there were bulky brown paper bags similar to those you get in the mail, each labelled with a name. He grabbed the one that read '_Foley, Tucker_', and was about to jump out of the window and make a run for it, when something on the TV caught his eye.

The news reporter from Vlad's reunion party was on the TV. What was her name, something Chin?

"_This is Harriet Chin, live at the scene in Amity Park following the fatal explosion at the Nasty Burger. _

_We aren't getting much information from the authorities at the present time, but I can confirm that the current body count is six. The deceased have been confirmed as Jack and Madeline Fenton, who worked as Ghost Researchers at their home laboratory 'Fenton Works'. Among them is their daughter, Jasmine. Two friends of the family were also discovered, one by the name of Tucker Foley. The other is the body of a young female that has not yet been positively identified, though reports suggest that she is Samantha Manson. Both are students at Casper High School. I'm hearing reports that the sixth body to be uncovered belongs to a Mr. Lancer, who teaches at Casper High, but this is yet to have been confirmed by a next of kin._

_Mr Dash Baxter, I understand you were a witness of the explosion. Can you tell me what went through your mind at the time of the explosion?" _

"_It was so freaking scary dude! I was watching Danny Phantom fight this big evil looking dude, he'd just kicked his butt and trapped him in this thing, when there was this huge explosion from the Nasty Burger. I've never seen anything like it, it was sky high man! It threw the Danny Phantom off his feet! It was the coolest thing I've ever seen!" _

"_Thank you for that, Mr. Baxter. This is Harriet chin for FOX news, back to the studio." _

Cool. That's definitely the word Dash used. _Cool._

Rage bubbled inside of him, threatened to erupt out of him like Mount Vesuvius on volcano day. He was _livid_. How dare Dash. How _dare_ he call the single most _devastating _thing that had ever happened to Danny '_the coolest thing he'd ever seen'_?

He shoved the PDA under his belt and blasted into the sky, leaving a very confused morgue attendant to clean up after him.


	6. Empty Threats

Dash smiled confidently as he walked down the street. He'd made an absolute fortune tonight, telling story after story to various members of the press, each in exchange for a small sum of cash.

He had been quite lucky, really. He'd been on his way to hand in a job application and his resume at the Nasty Burger. He'd seen a new pair of jeans that were all the rage, and his parents flat out refused to buy them for him. His solution was to work for a crappy burger joint and spend every last penny of his wages on designer stuff. If beating up Fenturd didn't secure his popularity status for the rest of his school life, then this certainly would.

The smile faded from his face ever so slightly at the thought of Danny. The kid just lost his only friends and his family. That had to be rough. Perhaps he should ease off on the bullying for a little while. It's not like he needed the extra attention it brought him now that he had more than enough money to buy those jeans.

Out of nowhere, a figure appeared in the street a few metres in front of him, almost completely hidden by the darkness and the almost blinding glare of a streetlight behind him.

"Hello Dash."

"What the hell, Fenton? Is that you?" He said, shielding his eyes. He was the same shape as Danny, and he had the same voice, so it had to be him, right?

"Not quite." Suddenly, the figure disappeared, only to reappear bang in front of Dash's face, and punch him square in the jaw.

Dash went flying. He landed very ungracefully on his back with his legs in the air. He stumbled to his feet, holding his jaw and looking thoroughly embarrassed. He could see his attacker in perfect light, now, and gaped in horror.

"Danny Phantom? Why are you doing this?" Another punch, this time in the stomach, faster than the eye could see.

"Everyone I love died today, and you think that's _cool?"_ He yelled and dived on Dash, straddling him to the floor. "All the times I've let you hurt me_ and_ my friends," He punched him in the face, "All the times you've shoved me into trashcans and humiliated me" He punched him again, "All the times I brushed it off, let you get away with it because I knew I was above it, I knew I was better than you!" He punched him again, and grabbed him by the lapels, forcing him to look him in the eye. "This ends now. You've crossed the line." He dropped him, and punched him _hard_. This time he heard something crack.

He climbed off of Dash, stepped back and looked at what he'd done. Dash's face was the swollen in so many different places. He had a black eye the size of a golf ball, perhaps even bigger. The blonde leaned to the size and coughed, spitting out blood and what looked like two or three teeth.

"F-Fenton..." He stuttered, "Please... I'm sorry. Please don't kill me." Spoken like a true coward. There were tears in his eyes. Or rather, eye. The other was swollen shut. Danny sighed, his shoulders slumping. The rage that had controlled him mere moments ago had slipped away, and had been replaced by something cold and mildly forgiving.

"Whatever it is that you _think _you know, you're wrong, and you have my word that if I hear any rumours circling about who you _think_ I am, I _WILL kill_ you." He turned around, "I mean it, Dash. I will tear your tongue out if that's what I have to do to keep your mouth shut."

With those final words, he began his journey back to the hotel.


	7. The Phone Call

Danny raced through the night sky, heart thumping in his chest. Rain battered him from all directions, drenching him to the bone. He couldn't actually _believe_ what he had just done. He had just beaten an innocent civilian to a pulp, and left him _bleeding_ in the middle of the street.

What an _evil _thing to do. He didn't need to get rid of his human half to become a monster, he already was one. He frowned. Dash might be a complete and utter jerk, but he most certainly did not deserve that.

He spotted a payphone, and dialled an ambulance for Dash. He had bigger things to worry about than what had just happened. Dash was a bully, he'd beaten Danny up so many times that he had actually lost count. Dash was going to be fine. He may be a little bruised, he may be a little ashamed of himself, but wasn't that what Danny wanted?

_No._ Dash had spoken thoughtlessly about his _dead_ family which was most definitely _not cool. _He'd sought Danny out of a crowd to purposely hurt him on many occasions, and pay back was to be expected. If not for Danny, then for every social outcast who had ever been the victim of Dash s_tuffing them into a trashcan _to gain applaud from the rest of the school.

He arrived back at the hotel and transformed the second he got into his room. He was tired in every conceivable way.

He removed his wet T-shirt, socks and shoes and threw over the shower rail, hoping that they would dry off by morning. He'd forgotten to pack pyjamas, but the hotel was well heated. It was only after he had climbed in to the bed, relished the luxurious comfort it provided, and settled into a comfortable position to fall asleep in, that he became aware of his phone vibrating _again_.

He forced himself to get out of bed and rummage through his dirty jeans pocket, but by that time it had long since stopped ringing.

He climbed _or rather_ _crawled _back under the sheets and flipped open his cell phone. 1.40am_, where does time go? More importantly, who calls at this hour?_

He took a deep breath. This was nice. It was raining heavily, pitter-pattering on the window. It was a soothing sound that he could listen to all night; rain had a tendency to be so much more pleasant when not outside getting soaked in it.

The bed was so warm and comfortable.

And Danny was _cold. _

He could feel it again; that growingly familiar feeling of _sadness_ tinged with guilt, loneliness, fear, and desperation. It forced itself upon him, he couldn't ignore it.

He dialled Vlad's number. It was easy, really. He didn't have to think about it at all. He knew the number by heart after all the years he'd spent purposely ignoring it_, easier still would have been to simply press redial_. At the end of the day, Vlad was the only person he had left. If this conversation didn't go as well as he was hoping it would, then big deal. _He had ghost powers_. He didn't _need_ Vlad to '_look after him'_; he was no less than perfectly capable of taking care of himself, _albeit outside of the law._ But there was no real reason to get hung up on the smaller details of the situation. Danny saved lives on a daily basis, if he was to find himself in a situation where he had to steal money in order to survive, then why shouldn't he? Surely he'd _earned_ the right to _not_ starve to death, to have a roof over his head and be able to replace the clothes that got ruined all the time.

The phone seemed to ring forever, by the time he'd answered, Danny had reconsidered all together. He didn't want to talk on the phone; he couldn't because it hurt too much. His throat was doing that _closed-up-thing_ and his lungs were doing that _out-of-breath-thing_. How was he supposed to conduct a conversation in such a state?

"Hello Daniel" He was pulled out of his_ justifying-hanging-up-after-ignoring-a-good-20-calls_ train of thought by Vlad's voice.

"Hi Vlad" He said. It was all he could say, really.

"How are you, little badger?" That old nickname, it was comforting, _familiar_. He missed familiarity. Since the moment of the explosion, nothing had been familiar anymore. The faces he saw were all faces that he'd_ never seen before_. The Nasty Burger was no longer a cool place to hang out and grab a burger; it had been replaced by a pile of ash and rubble.

"I noticed you called me a few times." He replied sheepishly. A small part of Danny's mind was silently hoping that Vlad would start to feel bored or run out of things to say and have no other choice but to hang up. However, the larger part was pleading to _whatever god was out there_ that Vlad would stay on the phone for the rest of the damn night.

"_Indeed_. I just wanted to check if you were all right, I thought you might want to talk about what happened." Vlad sounded uncharacteristically gentle, not that Danny minded. He didn't think he could handle _asshole-Vlad_ right now.

"Vlad, I appreciate your concern, _I really do_. But I can't talk about this. I've been holding it back and I know that once the flood gates open, I won't be able to close them." Even that was forced out. Every breath was harder than the last.

"Holding what back?"

"The pain I guess." His jaw tightened, his eyes began to water. _That's it, the show is over._

"Are you sure that's healthy?"

"Not in the slightest. In fact, it's probably very, _very_ unhealthy. But I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this to be happening." He bit his lip. "**Everyone I love is dead**." He didn't even mean to say that out loud. "I have no one left in the world."It was a harsh reality.

"That's _not _true, and you know it. I... You know that the whole _'feelings'_ thing isn't one of my strongest points, but I care about you _a lot_ - more than you know, in fact. You are _not_ alone in this; I won't let you be alone." Vlad's voice seemed to crack a little half way through that speech. It sounded like it came from the heart, it sounded _real._

"Vlad," Danny could hardly believe what he was about to ask for, but he didn't really care. They were going to live with each other. If Vlad was out to get him, then _Vlad was out to get him_. He had nothing left to fight for, and nothing left to lose.

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Talk to me until I fall asleep. _Please_?"

Danny might not _need_ a guardian, but he sure as hell _wanted _one. And who said anything about Vlad being his '_guardian_' anyway? That was purely a legality to satisfy the pencil pushers. Danny would be more than happy to just have a _friend _who would help him get through this _living nightmare_. He had never been alone in his _life_, and he _certainly_ wouldn't be thrilled if that were to change now.

_... And then there was that other thing_. The thing he'd been totally unaware of when he and Vlad met for the first time, mostly likely due to the fact that he had been _shit _scared because this _Vlad guy_ was the strongest ghost he'd ever encountered; he'd _never _had his ass handed to him so thoroughly, nor so brutally, than he had that night. Not _ever, _even to this day, _with the exception of his (their?) future self. _And, _yes,_ that had hit home a little. Actually, it had hit home a _lot_. Up until that point, he'd been riding his _fairly new found_ ghost powers like they were some kind of carnival ride, taking his ability to succeed and his overall safety for granted. He'd allowed himself to get cocky.

There was no denying that Vlad taught him a lot about his powers, right from day one.

And not only that, but they were _the only ones_. There were no other half ghosts in the world, _in the universe,_ and there probably never would be. Surely that had to count for something.

Danny closed his eyes and pulled the covers right up to his face, focussing on Vlad's _velvet _voice. He wasn't talking about anything particularly important, _no_, he was reminiscing. He was telling Danny about the college days he shared with Jack and Maddie, back before any causes for bitterness had occurred. They were good memories, happy memories.

He didn't want to fall asleep, but he knew that it was coming. He was exhausted and comfortable and _warm_. As strange as it may be, Vlad was like a morphine drip right now, and it wasn't long before Danny found himself out like a light.


	8. An Easy Decision

Dash was _beyond_ humiliated when he had to walk through the corridors of Casper High looking like he got on the wrong side of a wrecking ball. As it was, no one noticed his expensive new jeans. They were very much pre-occupied by the state of his face.

He told them that he had fallen down the stairs. When that didn't work, he told them he got hit by a car. When they started to question that, he told them that he was undergoing a new form of martial arts and asked them if they would like to see a demonstration, because he could really use a guinea pig to try out his moves on. Needless to say, his offer was declined.

People laughed at him behind his back, sniggered at him. Despite his cover stories, rumours were already beginning to circulate that he got his ass kicked by someone, although no one knew who that person was. Not that it mattered. Once you reach Dash's point at the very tip-top of the social ladder, being beaten up by _anyone _is practically unheard of.

But that wasn't the end of it. It couldn't be. No one humiliated Dash Baxter and got away with it, especially not a dork like Danny Fen_turd_.

Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom had to be the same person. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but there was no denying it. It was astounding, really, that no one had made that connection before. The names were practically identical, and they looked _sort-of_ the same. They were the same height, the same weight, had the same overall face shape. And then there was all that weird ghost business that his parents were into. Everyone thought they were completely nuts before ghosts started showing up left right and centre.

What Danny Phantom had said to him was nothing short of a confession. Okay, he didn't explicitly say '_I am Danny Fenton'_, but he very heavily implied it. His denial was followed by a death threat. Who does that unless they are guilty of something?

No. There was no point in even thinking about it. They were the same person, and the device he swiped from Danny Phantom would prove it. If it didn't, Dash would go back to his normal life and forget that any of it had ever happened.

He headed for the IT labs, holding the smashed up PDA in his pocket tightly. There had to be some _dork _in there with the necessary skills to get this thing working again. It was only a matter of time.

Danny Phantom was going down one way or another, and Dash Baxter had a hunch that the device in his hand was the key to getting it done.

The IT lab wasn't a laboratory by any definition of the word. In fact, it was just another ordinary class room except it had computers and other _interactive stuff_ in it. He looked around the room, eyeing up potential candidates.

It was much more difficult than he had anticipated.

There was a girl in the corner of the room tinkering with some kind of _thing_. She was the kind of girl who you just didn't go near, all four-inch-thick glasses and acne and everything nasty. Dash grimaced at the sweat marks on her T-shirt, at the way her outfit didn't match and the greasy mess that was her hair. She would never get a boy friend.

And that's when it hit him.

Dash knew full well that he was hot, he wasn't about to deny it. When he walked by, girls noticed. They blushed, acted nervous, started rambling about silly things or flat out ignoring their friends because they'd found someone _much_ more interesting to pay their full attention to.

So he formulated a plan. He would walk over there and get her attention, start talking to her _as if she was a normal human being_. He'd win her over. He'd dangle a relationship-carrot under her nose, and she'd give in to his charm and find herself wrapped around his little finger before she even knew what hit her.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the horrors that lay ahead, when all of a sudden he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Excuse me. Are you Dash Baxter?"

Dash turned around. The man was tall, and was wearing a white suit that was remarkably pristine.

"Yeah, that's me. Who wants to know?" Dash was apprehensive, to say the least.

"I have a few questions for you regarding the personal digital assistant you've got there. Would it be possible for us to discuss this further in private?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of fabric. He carefully removed his sunglasses and started to clean them. _Who wears sunglasses inside? _

"Huh?" Was all Dash could come up with. He didn't really know what to make of what was going on. Who was this weirdo, and digital what now?

"Trust me, son" He put his sunglasses away and lifted his suit jacket, tucking the lens cleaner in his breast pocket. But that wasn't his intention, no. His intention was for Dash to see the gun that had been carefully concealed under said jacket.

He nodded nervously, and followed the man out of the room.

They ended up in an unused classroom. It was currently undergoing renovations after being destroyed during a ferocious battle involving Danny Phantom.

"I'll cut to the chase. I work for a special unit of the government that specializes in ghost related technologies. Phantom is, and has been for quite some time now, one of our number one priorities. I've been personally assigned to his case for over three years now. We were tracking Phantom when he attacked you last night, and we noticed that you took something that doesn't belong to you."

Dash tightened his hand around the device in his pocket. There was no way in hell this guy was getting hold of it.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to take it from you by force. That is unless, of course, you leave me with no other option, but it doesn't have to come to that. One way or another, I _am_ leaving with that PDA. But I don't want any trouble and neither do you. So, I have decided to make you an offer that you can't refuse."

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper.

"I understand your family has been going through some financial troubles. I have in my hand a cheque for one million US dollars." He smiled confidently and handed the cheque to Dash. "It's made out to you, so you can spend it however you please."

Dash looked at the cheque, and then at the man, and grinned.

"You've got yourself a deal!"


	9. Over Breakfast

I'm **ADDICTED** to Portal 2. I'm not even kidding. I downloaded the soundtracks and everything, it's _embarrassing_. I can't control myself.

Which is why I haven't updated for a bit, so I do apologise for that.

* * *

><p>Danny was rudely awoken the next morning by his phone vibrating.<p>

_On his face. _

He groaned loudly and rolled over, effectively moving away from it as if doing so would make it stop. Of course it didn't stop, and in fact seemed to get louder and more annoying with every passing second. He briefly considered burying his head under his pillow and hoping he wouldn't suffocate, purely to rid himself of that disdainful vibration. He rolled onto his back and picked it up, fully intending on giving an absolute earful to whoever had the nerve to wake him up at this ungodly hour. Except it wasn't an ungodly hour at all.

He didn't recognise the number that was calling, but he answered it any way.

"Hello?"

"Danny! It's Annette. I'm just calling to make sure you're up, I wouldn't want you to miss your flight because you overslept or anything." She sounded awfully chipper. Danny never did understand the concept of being a morning person. "You are aware that it's nine fifteen, right?"

"Well, I am now." Danny said as he pushed back the sheets and started to get up.

"Good. Get up, get dressed and get some breakfast. There's a buffet every morning, they have toast, coffee, and you know, the general stuff. I'll call to check up on you once you're in Wisconsin, alright?"

"Sure. Thanks for the wakeup call." He looked around for his clothes, before remembering the night before. They were still in the bathroom, of course.

"No problem. Talk to you later. Oh, make sure you try the chocolate croissants for breakfast, they are to _die_ for. Anyway I really have to go, my boss is totally breathing down my neck. Bye!" She hung up without giving him chance to say good bye but it didn't really matter, because Danny was _sold_ at the mention of chocolate croissants.

He snapped the phone shut and tossed it in the general direction of the duffel bag, before heading in to the bathroom.

He was relieved to find that his jeans had dried off just nicely. After putting them on he noticed that his T-shirt, on the other hand, was a complete mess. The shoulder had a huge patch of blood, right where that god awful gash was on his shoulder.

He sighed. This had to stop happening. Two T-shirts destroyed within the space of twenty four hours... _Actually_ didn't even come close to his personal record. His clothes got wrecked all the time. Still, it wasn't good.

He walked back in to the bedroom, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Vlad sitting on the conveniently now-made bed.

"Holy _crap_, you scared the hell out of me!" Danny exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you. I just came to see how you were getting on." Vlad eyed him suspiciously and raised an eyebrow as Danny walked by him to get a clean T-shirt out of the duffel bag sitting at the foot of the bed. He grabbed his wrist.

"They told me that you weren't hurt in the explosion. I see now that they grossly underestimated the extent to which you were injured." His eyes seemed to stop at the cut on his shoulder.

"It's nothing, I've had worse." He wasn't lying. He had been injured in the past. The kind of injured where you have no choice but to find someone who looks kind-of like you and _borrow_ their identity for a hospital visit. The kind of injured that requires stitches and ice packs _and _filling out forms that say _'by signing below, you will be confirming that you chose to leave the hospital premises against medical advice'_. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, what with the whole being half naked in a room full of _Vlad_. He pulled his wrist away, and continued to get ready.

"I can see that. Just how many scars do you have?"

"Not sure, I lost count." He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but in all honesty, he _despised_ them. He dreaded people seeing them and asking where he got them, telling them that he 'fell down the stairs' just didn't cut it anymore. Hell, telling them that he got hit by a bulldozer – which, by the way, wasn't necessarily a lie – wouldn't cut it anymore. It wasn't like he could tell them the truth, either_. 'I fight ghosts and, as shocking as it may be, I get hurt on the job... a lot'._

"I see." There was a bit of an awkward silence. Neither of them really knew what to say to the other. It was weird, one minute they were fierce enemies and the next they were _this_, whatever _this_ was. "Will you be travelling to Wisconsin on the plane that your social worker arranged?"

He knew he had to get the plane, and that fact alone really pissed him off because he had a ghost portal that could take him to Vlad's within ten minutes or so. But he was under close supervision, and he had to guard his secret _and the et cetera_. If the right person just so happened to look in the right place, they would see that Danny wasn't on the plane, and questions would be asked; questions that Danny most certainly would_ not_ be able to answer.

It wasn't worth the risk. He had to get the plane.

"Yeah, I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"I suppose not. Would you like me to upgrade your seat to first class?" Vlad was going out of his way to be nice, which made Danny feel somewhat guilty about how suspicious that seemed. He tried to tell himself that he was being silly because he had nothing to lose and Vlad had little to gain. He was already one of the strongest ghosts in the world – quite possibly _the _strongest. He already had the most influential humans _and ghosts_ wrapped around his little finger. Generally speaking, he already had the top three things that most men aspire to: Wealth, Power and... _What was that other thing?_

If Danny was human, he would be utterly dependant on Vlad. But he wasn't. He could do whatever he wanted to do, and he could do it whenever he wanted to do it.

"Vlad, you really don't need to be so nice to me. After everything that's happened between us... I'm not even sure why you're doing this. If I were you, I'd _hate_ me. I killed the woman you love."

"Don't say that, it's not true."

"It _kind of_ is! I... Have a lot I need to tell you about what actually happened." Vlad had to know this stuff, even if it meant diving head first into what was probably the most painful chain of events in his entire life. But he was _not _about to miss chocolate croissants just because Vlad decided to show up. _"Let's discuss it over breakfast. Okay?" _


	10. Discovery

When the lift doors opened, Danny wasn't surprised to see that the hotel wasn't quite awake yet. The lobby was more or less void of people, with the exception of the guy behind the main desk who looked half dead anyway.

A delicious smell crept up his nose as they walked across the lobby in silence towards an area with tables and chairs. _Chocolate croissants, it had to be._ He'd been secretly looking forward to this ever since his social worker mentioned them. After everything that had happened yesterday, he hadn't had chance to really eat anything. Then again, he hadn't been all that hungry anyway. Now, on the other hand, he was ravenous. He had no doubt that he could eat an entire horse _in one bite. _

On the other hand, he was _not_ looking forward to telling Vlad what had happened yesterday, not one little bit. In fact, he was dreading it. His mouth went dry at the thought of revisiting it all again because frankly, he wanted to forget that any of it had ever happened. He wanted to erase every detail of that god awful day from his mind and move on with what was left of his life. But how could he? His _family _died. He couldn't forget them, even if he wanted to. He didn't. He didn't ever want to forget them, he didn't want them to be gone, he wanted to be at home right now eating burnt toast and listening to his mom yelling at him about how late he was for school.

_No. _He pulled himself out of that train of thought before it got too late because he _wasn't_ at home. He wasn't eating burnt toast and his mother wasn't around to yell at him. He wasn't late for school, he'd likely never step foot in Casper High again. It was a harsh reality that he'd have to get used to. _Like, right now._

He watched as a woman placed a fresh hot plate of hot croissants on a buffet table, and headed right the hell over there. He grabbed a plate and a croissant, a small packet of Nutella and a butter knife. This was awesome.

Vlad raised an eyebrow at the _not-exactly-healthy_ breakfast Danny was piling on his plate, and opted for a simple cup of coffee.

"So," Vlad began, "you were going to tell me what happened." _How subtle._

Danny placed his half eaten breakfast on his plate. He knew this was coming. He just kind of didn't want it to.

"Right, but I want you to promise me something first. No, I _need _you to promise me that however crazy this sounds, you won't write it off as post traumatic temporary insanity or whatever."

"Go on."

"It's quite complicated. Okay. So imagine there are two timelines. In the original timeline, I cheated on a test. Because of this, my teacher Mr Lancer arranged to meet my parents at the Nasty Burger. I don't even _know_ why Jazz, Sam and Tucker were there. And then there was the explosion that... you know." He paused and took a deep breath. This was sounding more and more coincidental and crazy by the second. "After that, you became my legal guardian. I was in a lot of pain, and you understood. You wanted to help. You thought that by removing my human half, you'd get rid of my emotions and I'd be able to move on. But you were wrong, instead you separated us into two living halves, and the first thing my ghost half did was kill my human half, the second thing it did was merge with your ghost half. The third thing it did was destroy everything. God, he's pure evil and there's no way to stop him."

He looked at Vlad, and saw the confused if _disbelieving_ look he had on his face, and that hurt. He wanted Vlad to believe him, he needed him to.

"And that's where Clockwork comes in."

"Clockwork – _now_ it all makes sense. I must admit, Daniel, your story was beginning to sound unrealistically farfetched. But now that Clockwork has joined the equation... Do continue."

"He sent a few ghosts to kill me. Get this – he sent a ghost called Boxed Lunch, aka the_ lovechild_ of the lunch lady and the box ghost."

"_Yikes." _

"When I defeated Boxed Lunch, she had this strange medallion around her neck. One thing led to another, and we traced it to Clockwork's lair. He tried to kill me again, but we fled to the future, where we encountered _him_. He seems to call himself _Dan Phantom_. Your name isn't even in there, sucks to be you. If it's any consolation, he does _look_ more like you. Anyway, that's unrelated and probably doesn't even matter. He travelled to our timeline to ensure that he was still created by killing my family. I visited you in the future, and you helped me get back here. Speaking of, don't _ever_ grow a hobo beard. Being a lonely old hermit is _no_ excuse, it doesn't work. It just doesn't. _It doesn't work on anyone_." Vlad didn't know whether he should be offended or not, but decided against it. There were more pressing matters at hand, after all. Besides, he didn't even want a 'hobo beard', why would he?

...

_Maybe_ he had considered it briefly. Just, like, once. Everyone goes through a _beard phase_ at some point in their life, right? _Just look at Brad Pitt._

"Anyway," Danny said with a certain tone of self discipline, "back to the story. When I made it back to this timeline, I managed to trap Dan inside a Fenton Thermos but it was too late. The Nasty Burger exploded, which is Clockwork decided to make an appearance, and he probably saved my life. But he didn't save _theirs._"

"And what of Dan?"

"Clockwork took the thermos and told me that Dan now _existed outside of time_, whatever that means. He said I should '_take the necessary steps to ensure that he is never reborn'_. I think the general gist is to not, you know, split myself into two or anything like that. He's a big fan of the whole _actions-have-consequences _thing."

"Let me get this straight, Clockwork wants you to live with the consequences of an action you never took? Going on what you've just told me, you never cheated on the test."

"I didn't, but Dan did. He made himself look like me and cheated on the test whilst I was trapped in another timeline completely. I suppose Clockwork was hoping that I'd figure things out sooner and get back in time to save them myself. I did ask him, I _begged _him to let them live. He just told me that it was 'out of his hands' and that there was 'nothing he could do'." Danny realised that he was clenching his fist and that it was starting to hurt.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to relax. He looked at Vlad hoping for something, _anything. _He figured that he _sort-of_ got what he wanted when Vlad's coffee mug shattered in his hands.

"In which case, it wasn't your fault. It was Clockwork's, that meddling little _bastard_. I'll kill him." It became apparent that Vlad was, oh, _seething _with rage.

"Calm down. There's nothing either of us can do. He's not like us, he'd see us coming before we even realised we were _going. _And besides, it's not his fault. He wouldn't want me to suffer for no reason at all, surely not. He was genuinely regretful when he said he couldn't help. I really do believe he was telling the truth." _Okay,_ that was a flat out lie. Danny hated Clockwork right now, quite possibly more than he'd ever hated anyone ever before. In fact, he was fully intending on paying him a visit once he was settled in at Vlad's. But now was not the time. He couldn't afford to disappear right now. "How do you know Clockwork, anyway?"

"Ugh. Don't get me started. He's constantly interfering with my plans. He's been trying to get me to become a better person for years. After 20 years of being a selfish rich kid, and another 20 being a bitter old super villain, you'd think he would have realised that it's a lost cause." He seemed to be calming down a little, which was good. Danny really couldn't deal with Vlad freaking out too. He picked up the discarded croissant, which was now cold, and nibbled on it.

"So you were rich before you got your ghost powers?" This was odd. Small talk was something he and Vlad scarcely ever did, and when they did it was usually just a front to fool whatever witnesses were present.

"Indeed. I inherited the mansion and a reasonable fortune from my parents." He said as he started to pick up the pieces of the destroyed coffee mug. It was a good thing it had been more or less empty, otherwise he would have made a real mess. "I suppose it's why I still live out there. There's nothing else to keep me in Wisconsin other than the memories of growing up in that place."

Something suddenly dawned on Danny.

"I've never asked, what happened to your parents?"


	11. Often Best Shared

"_Shit_, you're bleeding." Danny said suddenly, looking at Vlad's hand that he had been holding the coffee mug with, prior to its untimely demise. He took hold of Vlad's hand without thinking, and ever so gently pressed a napkin to the cut, before removing it briefly to have a look.

"It doesn't look to deep, little badger, it's alright."

"It's bleeding a lot." He said with uncertainty, gently dabbing the blood away. How strange, that the boy should care so much about a tiny little cut.

And then Vlad realised what was really going on. Such a small action spoke louder than any words ever could.

Danny was freaking out. He was so very afraid of losing the only person he had left in the world that such a silly thing as a minor cut had him scared.

But that pretty much summed him up all over. Danny was rash; he often said and did things without really thinking them through. He fought ghosts with a ferocity that was downright _scary_ at times. But he was a good person underneath it all. He was kind hearted, gentle. He wouldn't hurt a fly if he didn't have a very, _very _good reason to do so.

And so Vlad sat there and allowed Danny to obsess over the cut until the bleeding had subsided. He observed the somewhat worried look on his face, the way his hair was perhaps more of a mess than it had ever been before. The way he was tenderly holding his hand and attending to his wound as if it was the most important thing in the world. It was _adorable_.

Danny had a way of making you like him, whether you wanted to or not. The way he was made it impossible to not be fond of him. There was a certain light around him; a warmth that seemed to follow him wherever he went. In a way, Vlad was happy that they now had this. Though he wasn't entirely sure what '_this_' was, it was nice sitting here with the boy without having an ulterior motive, without there being feelings of anger and hatred being thrown to-and-fro across the table.

"My parents were killed in front of me when I was a few years younger than you are now." He said calmly, never taking his eyes away from Danny. He was pretty sure that the cut had stopped bleeding, but Danny was still pressing the napkin to it, _and holding his hand_. He looked up curiously.

"You don't have to talk about it, I mean, if you don't want to."

"It's fine. If we're going to be living under the same roof, it's only fair that we know these things about each other, right?"

"I know. It's just, you know, I don't want you to feel you have to talk about it if you aren't comfortable with it."

"My father was a very proud man, and a very wealthy one, but it wasn't always that way. He made a few choice investments earl y on in his life. He borrowed money from people who, generally speaking, you should never _ever _borrow money from. He paid back his debts when his business took off, but once the low life criminal he borrowed from found out about his success, he proclaimed that he was partially to thank for said success, and demanded more money. When my father refused to pay up, things started to get violent. One night, he and few other crooks broke into the mansion and shot both my mother and my father, and then ran off with the safe and a few other valuables. I don't think he realised that I was hiding under the bed the whole time."

"That's awful. I never knew." Danny had stopped what he was doing and was looking at Vlad with a painfully sympathetic look on his face. "It must have been really hard on you."

"I suppose. I was able to stay in the mansion, mainly because I was the sole heir to their fortune and knew who the pay to get what I wanted. I hired private investigators left right and centre to find the guy who killed them, but they'd always either show up dead or missing. In the end I gave up, right up until I got my ghost powers." Vlad abstractly noticed that Danny had discarded the napkin all together in favour of holding Vlad's hand with both of his. It felt oddly intimate, but he didn't dare look into it. That _never _ended well.

"What did you do?"

"I followed the leads that my private investigators had been following. It turned out that he'd made quite a name for himself while I hadn't been paying attention. He was rich, powerful, and had hundreds of lowly criminals at his beckoned call. When I found him, I lead him to believe that I was just another investigator trying to make a wage by looking into the deaths of Mr and Mrs Masters. He tried to shoot me. You can imagine his surprise when the bullets passed right through me without even leaving a scratch. I toyed with him for a while, made him scared, and then I ripped him apart and took control of his criminal empire."

"Wow." That was all he could say, really. It was quite impressive – and touching, albeit in a sort of _sick_ way. He'd acquired ghost powers, and he'd put avenging his parents above all else, including Maddie and the whole world domination business_._ That was incredibly sweet by Vlad's standards.

"It gave me some peace to know that the person who caused me the most hurt in my life would never hurt anyone again." He took a deep breath and squeezed Danny's hand, offering a comforting smile. "Kind of like _Dan_ being trapped inside of a thermos for the rest of eternity, wouldn't you agree?"

Danny smiled and nodded. "I guess so. I just kind of want to... Kick his ass. You know what I mean?"

Vlad laughed, before looking at his watch. "It's almost 10am. When are you getting picked up?"

"Any time now I guess. I'd better go and get my stuff and straighten the room out a bit."

When he slipped his hands away from Vlad's, he was instantly aware of cold it felt, and of how much he really hadn't wanted to do that. He felt a brief pain in his chest and put it down to indigestion, even though he knew full well that it wasn't.

"I'll see you soon, little badger."

"See you."

The walk to the lift felt like a mile. He was aware of Vlad's eyes following him the whole way, though he suspected it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. As he stepped into the lift and the doors closed, he let out a deep sigh. That whole hand-holding thing was, well, _weird_. It made him realise something that he'd been ignoring for a very long time.

_He had feelings for Vlad. _

He was reluctant to admit it, even to himself. It was weird, he'd never felt this way about anyone before – especially not a middle aged man who had tendencies of trying to _kill _him, trying to kill his father, trying to seduce his mother, et cetera.

_That should definitely not be a turn on. _

Perhaps he had to look at this logically. He was supposedly in love with Sam, as he'd been told by virtually everyone. People expected them to be together_, he_ expected them to be together.

When they 'went steady', no one was particularly surprised. But they were more than boyfriend and girlfriend, they were _best_ friends. He certainly cared about her more than he'd ever cared about any other girl. He felt comfortable around her, and there was no denying that she was hot. She was pretty; she had nice eyes, she was slender, interesting, intelligent... But there was always something missing.

He enjoyed _being_ with her. He enjoyed making out and _all _the things that came after. Of course he enjoyed sex, _he's a guy._

... But she didn't have that _spark_. When he was around Sam, his heart didn't beat at three or four times the normal rate. He didn't get that sudden burst of adrenaline, he didn't feel excited or, _dare he say it_, turned on. He didn't pine after her when she wasn't around. He didn't find himself obsessing over where she was or what she was doing when he hadn't seen her for a while.

And he knew he loved her. That said, he loved Tucker, he loved Jazz, he loved his mom and his dad. What if it was the same thing? You know, family love. Like Sibling love or _bromance_.

It didn't even matter anymore, not really. Sam was gone, and so was everyone else. Whatever was or wasn't there was irrelevant. Nothing could become of it anymore.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He was not thinking about this. It was ridiculous – _ludicrous,_ even. To even entertain the idea that he _fancied_ Vlad was madness. Of course he didn't. His feelings were all over the place, his family just died. There was Vlad acting all fatherly and caring, and here Danny was _crushing _on him.

How _wrong _is that?

He decided to put his foot down. He was _not_ going to think about this. He didn't have the time to waste. He did, after all, have a plane to catch.


	12. The Long Road Ahead

The flight was unpleasant to say the least.

Danny thought he was pretty lucky when he got on the plane and, not only found himself sitting by the window, but had the pleasure of an empty seat next to him. Personal space on a budget airline is always very much appreciated.

Unfortunately for him, seconds before the doors closed a man rushed onto the plane. It had obviously taken him a lot of effort to get here. He was blushing a bright red and visibly rather sweaty.

Danny glanced up and down the plane, only to see that the unoccupied seat beside him was the only unoccupied seat on the plane.

The stewardess smiled awkwardly as she took his ticket, and directed him to his seat. Danny had to suppress a groan upon seeing him make his way up the gangway.

The term '_morbid obesity'_ flashed through his mind. He'd heard it on one of the TV shows about fat people that his mother insisted on watching, the kind where they belittle them for a while before putting them on a crash diet of seeds and rabbit food and other inedible crap, only to surgically cut away person-sized chunks of wobbly yellow fat anyway. Danny shuddered at the thought of the shows that that you can only possibly love to hate.

The man shoved his luggage into the overhead holder, squeezed into his seat and, after messing around with his seat belt for a good five minutes, decided to ask for an extension.

This was going to be one hell of a nasty flight.

Danny positioned himself as close to the window as humanly possible and stayed that way right through take off. He hated the fact that he had to go through this. He abstractly wondered what was in Wisconsin that had so many people flying out there.

Well, there was one thing -or rather person, _or rather hot only-other-half-ghost-in-the-world_.

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He'd laid his cards on the table. Vlad knew everything about Dan, about what would happen if Danny gave up. And the whole _hand ordeal_ probably made him suspicious of any_ other_ possible intentions that Danny may have, subconscious or otherwise.

And Danny couldn't help but consider why Vlad had allowed the _hand ordeal_. He could have easily pulled away, made an excuse, he could have checked the time on his watch or something.

No. That was more than enough about the _hand ordeal_ because if Danny wanted to survive this, he'd have to be strong, and that meant waving goodbye to inappropriate _childish_ feelings and general oversensitivity.

He was jerked right out of train of thought by a bunch of peanuts that seemed to suddenly rain all over him. He opened one eye and observed said peanuts that were more or less all over the place. He opened the other eye and mustered the best glare he could at the man sitting beside him. The guy smiled and shrugged sheepishly,  
>"Sorry about that buddy, they make these things so damn hard to open!"<p>

He was about to snap back with some kind of witty retort, when a woman sitting on the opposite row of seats leaned across and spoke to him.

"Tell me about it! The trick is to split the bag rather than try to pry it open, that way they don't end up exploding everywhere."

Danny clenched his jaw and closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the insanely dull excuse of a conversation that was passing between the two.

This was going to be a_ very_ long trip.

Between pointless announcements and irritating co passengers, Danny didn't manage to get much shut eye. In fact, he didn't get any at all. Needless to say, he was incredibly relieved when the plane touched down in Wisconsin.

The second he arrived at the airport, he found a bathroom and transformed into his alter ego. No more aeroplanes, no taxis, no fancy limousines and certainly no more uncomfortable encounters with that annoying fat guy he had to sit next to. No, _no way_. He would make his own way there.

Admittedly, his geographical knowledge of Wisconsin wasn't all that great. In fact, he'd gotten himself lost numerous times whilst trying to make his way to Vlad's without the use of a ghost portal. However, once he got to the huge forest that surrounded Vlad's mansion, it was all smooth sailing.

He often forgot just how huge Vlad's mansion was. Previously, Danny had always figured that he had picked that particular mansion above all others because of the location. It was massive and luxurious, but also perfectly hidden by trees to avoid any unwanted attention. It was perfect for an evil, powerful ghost who craved world domination, among other things.

_Wow. _

He hadn't even properly thought about that aspect of moving in with Vlad. All things considered, he was a _bad guy_. He conned people out of their hard earned money without even thinking about using his ghost powers unless, that is of course unless push came to shove – which it hardly ever did. No, Vlad's success could be cleanly attributed to his manipulative and clever nature.

Not only that, but Vlad had _done things_. Things that most would consider to be borderline unforgivable, such as trying to kill his father, attempting to seduce his mother on multiple occasions, resorting to blackmail and bribery to win Danny himself over. No, those definitely fell under _not good. _

But over on the positives, Vlad had taught him a lot of things about being a ghost. Early on in his teen years especially, his powers made him feel like an absolute_ freak_. The way he'd sometimes sneeze and there would be ectoplasm in it. The way his ghost sense would suddenly explode out of his mouth midway through conversation. The way he had to sneak around and make that extra special effort to not accidentally lose his tangibility and fall right through the floor, or the way he had to dash into janitor's closets and cram himself into too-small lockers when ever needed to transform.

And then he'd end up seeing Vlad again: _Vlad, _who would always carry that brisk air of confidence with just a twinge of pride- actually, a _whole_ _lot_ of pride. Vlad, who was powerful and didn't care what other people thought because he knew that he was superior to them in every conceivable way. Vlad who was intelligent and successful despite his powers – _thanks to his powers._

And it felt pretty good. It gave him a reason to not be ashamed of who _or rather_ _what_ he had become. And rightly so, he shouldn't be ashamed of being different. It wasn't like he chose it. Besides, it was that '_difference_' that made it possible for him to save innocent people from not-so-innocent ghosts.

Besides, what alternative to living with Vlad was there? He could _easily_ steal a good sum of money from the nearest bank, rent himself a _no-questions-asked-always-pay-in-cash_ place to live, and spend the rest of his life hunting ghosts. He'd be completely alone. Really, would that be any fun at all? He sincerely doubted it. Besides, he was _Danny Phantom_. He'd built – or at least _tried_ to build – a reputation for himself as the good guy, the hero. There are a lot of things that heroes don't do, and stealing from banks for personal gain is one of them.

He pushed his thoughts aside for the time being as he spotted the top of Vlad's mansion poking out of the trees.

_Now or never. _


	13. Unlucky Numbers

I'd just like to thank everyone who has been following this fic so far, especially those who were kind enough to review :)!

* * *

><p>Danny's new room was <em>big<em>. That is, if 'big' is a sufficient enough word to describe _holy-crap massively huge._ He sighed as he dumped his bag on what was most likely a king sized bed, all too aware of Vlad's presence by the door. Watching and waiting for for some kind of reaction.

"Wow. It's a great room." He said in attempt to put a stop to the descending awkwardness, trying his hardest to sound as enthusiastic as possible whilst all the time knowing that, given the circumstances, he probably failed miserably – an_ A+_ for effort, though.

As far as bedrooms went, this hardly even came _close_ to your standard, everyday variety. A bed with more pillows than posts, bedside table with a lamp that combined probably cost more than a small car, a walk-in wardrobe with barely anything in it, an en suite bathroom. Danny's favourite feature was, without a doubt, the balcony. It wasn't huge, not compared to the room anyway. But size didn't matter. It would be a great take off point, kind of like a half-ghost _runway_. He liked it, he liked it a _lot_.

He reached into his bag and slid out the family photograph that he'd swiped from his house and frowned at the newly apparent crack going right the way down through the photo, striking an unmistakeable line separating Vlad and Danny from his friends and family.

"Ha, how's that for a cruel coincidence?" He said humourlessly, placing the photo frame gently on the bedside table. It was quite funny, really. How many times must he have walked past that photo frame and not even registered it being there? Over the months he'd gradually forgotten that the picture had even been taken in the first place. And now, that tattered wooden frame with the cracked glass and old photograph was the most important object in Danny's life. The crack kind of upset him, though he'd never admit it out loud. He wanted to protect it as if it were a child, wrap it up in cotton wool and never let it out of his sight, which was outright _silly._ It was, afterall_,_ just a stupid old photograph. Yet the feelings it stirred up inside of him were undeniable, and those weren't funny _at all_. The photograph and the memories that were trapped within it seemed to penetrate his mind and take permanent residence there, refusing to budge.

And rightly so, he didn't _ever_ want to forget, even if it really, _really_ hurt him not to.

Vlad hated seeing Danny like this. He hated seeing the pain that lingered in his eyes and the fatigued way he'd taken to moving lately as if he just didn't have it in him to go on living a second longer. The way that an action as simple as looking at an old picture would bring an expression to his face that, honestly, was utterly heart breaking.

He found himself gravitating towards the boy. He felt as if his heartstrings were being tugged at and pulled harder and harder, as if they would start to snap if he didn't start moving soon. He took a few steps forward and, before he really thought about what he was even doing, placed a firm hand on Danny's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.

"It will get easier over time, little badger." He said in what was almost a whisper.

"I know. It's just hard. A day or so ago, everything was good." He turned around, purposely manoeuvring himself so that Vlad's hand wouldn't move. "It's the suddenness of it all, you know?"

Vlad found himself staring into two _frankly gorgeous_ light blue eyes that were practically brimming with tears. It was truly devastating; he'd never seen him in so _much_ pain. Granted, he had certainly seen Danny in pain. In fact, he had caused a fair share of_ that_ pain in his time. But this was a different kind of pain, a whole new breed entirely. This pain couldn't be alleviated through the use of pain medication; a few aspirin wouldn't make this go away.

How do you even _begin_ to combat the clean cut _agony _caused by the grief of losing everything you love?

"I know how shocked you must be, you and me both." He felt like he was treading on egg shells. Vlad knew how to talk the talk. His eloquence and refined way of speaking had earned him a _hell_ of a lot of many and numerous powerful friends in powerful places. But this was a new experience entirely, he found himself utterly and hopelessly tongue tied. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing, accidentally insulting Danny or saying something insensitive by mistake, but above all he was afraid of pushing Danny away, of _losing _him.

A tear dropped from Danny's eye and cascaded down his cheek, and he was quick to reach up and smack it away. How embarrassing it was, to find he was unable to stop himself from crying in front of someone who, not a day ago, he considered to be his arch nemesis.

Vlad's heart shattered into a thousand pieces right where he stood.

He drew Danny in close and held him tight, silently praying that the boy wouldn't freak out and try to push him away or something. He couldn't handle that right now. But even so, he knew how Danny thought, how he perceived him. In truth, there were no underhanded schemes; he had no hidden motives here other than to help him through a difficult time – it even sounded like a lie on his own lips, even though it _wasn't_.

Danny slid his arms around Vlad loosely, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately trying to prevent any more tears from escaping. He desperately needed some kind of anchor. He found himself leaning into the embrace, relaxing. Vlad was warm, and he smelt _right_. It was hard to find an alternative word. This contact between himself and Vlad gave him a strong sense of _familiarity_ which was strangely comforting. More to the point it was _half-ghost-y,_something that was reserved solely for the two of them and no one else. He'd never really noticed it before. Then again, he'd never really been this close to Vlad unless sit was in the midst of a battle or was part of some ploy.

Some part of him felt like he'd been waiting for this for a long time. Not the hug, _all though that was nice_, but the _acceptance_. Vlad was 'bad' and Danny was 'good', making it pretty much written in stone that they had to be mortal enemies. But that had all changed now; none of that petty rivalry stuff mattered anymore. It didn't _matter _that Danny didn't want to become some kind of evil apprentice to Vlad, it didn't _matter_ that Vlad had committed crimes against humanity that scarcely bore thinking about. None of it mattered in the _slightest_.

They were the only two of their kind in the _universe_; it was clearly preposterous for them spend their lives hating each other due to matters as trivial as bad guys and good guys.

Vlad rested his head on the other half ghost's, inhaling the soft scent of _Daniel _and cheap shampoo, hotel bed and the smell of fresh air that only ever came from flying in it.

He cared about Daniel_, he always had_. The thought of him be coming a monster was _unthinkable_. He tightened his hold into something between overprotective and bone crunching. Whether the crazy sounding story about an '_evil future self'_ was true or otherwise, he would _never _let it go that far, he would _never_ let Danny fall into the darkness.


	14. Realisation

If Danny could've frozen time right then and there, he would have. For the first time in what was probably a very long time, he felt good. Not just that, he felt _safe_. He hadn't really felt safe since day one, when he very first got his ghost powers and realised that it was his job to defend not only himself, but the entirety of Amity Park and occasionally the world. He lived his life feelings on edge, constantly alert, aware of any and all incoming threats 24/7. And now here he was shamelessly accepting a hug from someone who, until very recently, was considered as one of said threats. Hell, Danny didn't even know if Vlad still _was _a threat.

It was unwise to permit the belief that Vlad was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, and Danny knew it all too well. It was no secret that Vlad was a very manipulative person, meaning that this could all very easily be some kind of trick to gain Danny's trust. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd been fooled by the older half ghost's charm.

_He couldn't handle that. _

The thought scared him a little but it was absolutely, undoubtedly true. He felt like his soul had been hacked into messy, bloody little pieces and was just barely being held together by a fraying cotton thread that would soon snap, and then what would he do?

He'd fall apart, that's what. He'd hit rock bottom and there would be no one down here waiting for him, braced and ready to break his fall and bounce him right back up again. He'd be on his own in the dark with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Well, there would be one person to turn to, or rather turn _into_.

The thought wasn't appealing in the slightest.

On the other hand, Vlad could be perfectly genuine, and how awesome would that be? If he dropped his defences and just let this happen, _let _himself be patched up and sewn back together by Vlad. It didn't have to be a risk or a conscious decision; he could just go along with the ride, so to speak. See where he ended up. If the final destination just so happened to be a bad place, if Vlad did betray him, then so what? _Seriously_, so what? He didn't exactly have anything to lose, but perhaps he _did_ have something to gain.

He breathed deeply, partially because he was practically hyperventilating, but mostly because whatever cologne Vlad was wearing was a _damn_ good cologne.

Sam and Tucker wouldn't believe this. They'd drag him away from Vlad and smack him round the face, and then they would tell him to stop being such a naive idiot and to get a grip already. They would remind him that, _duh_, Vlad is the enemy? That being said, if Sam and Tucker were here, he wouldn't be in this _dire_ situation in the first place. He'd be with them, getting best friend hugs and listening to their comforting words. He'd have someone there to not only tell him that it wasn't his fault, but to order him to believe it until he actually did.

He would miss them so much. He would miss Sam and her strong will and set in stone morals. He would miss Tucker and the way he was able to take any situation and make it humorous, the hours they spent on video games together. The way he wore that silly red beret religiously, the fact that the only thing Tucker loved more than his two best friends was his PDA. The way...

_**Shit. **_

What did he do with the PDA? He pushed away from Vlad suddenly, although part of him wished he hadn't. It felt cold without him.

"What's wrong?" Vlad asked. He thought Danny had responded quite well to the sudden _proximity_, better than he'd hoped in fact. He hadn't expected him to actually relax.

"I may have done something really, really stupid." He said blankly as he hurried over to the duffel bag, praying that he'd been absent minded and shoved the thing in there without thinking about what he was doing. No such luck. He raked his hands through his hair. "Tucker had a PDA with tons of ghost information on it. I mean, there is some real dangerous info on there that could cause a world of hurt. I can't believe how stupid I am. Why didn't I _notice_ that it was gone?"

He walked towards the balcony, shifting into his ghost form somewhere along the way. This was bad, this was _really_ bad.

"Wait, Daniel. What are you doing, where are you going? _Daniel!_" Danny ignored him, phasing through the glass of the balcony doors and taking off into the sky. Vlad sighed. Tonight was going to be a _long_ night.


	15. Primary Suspect

Danny flew through the air with astonishing speed, practically giving a whole new meaning to the term 'faster than a speeding bullet', with Vlad only metres behind.

In all honesty, Vlad had been _expecting _some kind of freak out. He never expected Danny to settle in with no problems whatsoever. In fact, he'd gone so far as to double check that his freezer was appropriately stocked with ice packs, specifically for if or _when_ Danny decided to direct his anger at Vlad and give him a black eye or a bruised_ whatever else._ So when Danny did freak out, he wasn't all that surprised at first.

What he hadn't been expecting was to be racing towards Amity Park, right after Danny had already flown all the way from there to Wisconsin just an hour or so beforehand. Perhaps he'd considered the possibility that the boy would refuse all help and run away, but this was ridiculous because he didn't even know why they were going. Hell, he only assumed they were going to Amity Park. They were, after all, going in that _general direction_. But hey, they could be on their way to Kuala Lumpar for all Vlad new.

He took a deep breath, and pushed himself forward with speed that easily floored Danny's. He stopped bang in his path, forcing him to come to a sudden halt.

"This is _madness_, and I have a general rule that before I participate in any variety of _madness_, I at least know what said _madness _entails." He folded his arms stubbornly and pulled his _I-am-not-moving-from-this-spot-until-you-tell-me-what's-going-on_ face.

"Hey, no one said you had to come. Go back. I'll see you when I see you." He moved to go around Vlad, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Hold it! Look Daniel, I'm already here so just tell me what I want to know and we can be on our way. _Together_."

Danny sighed in defeat.

"What do you want to know?"

"Okay, well let's start with _where we are going_ and finish with _why we are going there_._'_" Danny's eyes flashed between Vlad and the empty space behind him, as if there was something incredibly urgent back there or as if he was formulating a plan to get past him. "Well?"

"Alright, we're going to Amity Park to visit this guy called Dash Baxter. We're going there because I think he might have some idea where Tucker's PDA is. It has information on it about ghosts and such, including stuff about Danny Phantom, so we need to hurry. If you want to know anything else then we'll have to _walk and talk_."

Vlad raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, about to point out the fact that they were floating in mid air and wouldn't exactly be _walking_ anywhere.

"You know what I mean. Come on." He briskly flew past Vlad, giving him no choice but to follow.

"How did this _'Dash'_ fellow get hold of the PDA anyway?" Vlad asked, a note of distain hanging from Dash's name.

"I don't want to talk about it." Danny said tightly, his face full of guilt. Vlad decided not to question it, hopefully all would be revealed in good time and besides, he didn't want to pry. After all, he was already pushing boundaries just by being there. It was quite possibly time for a change of subject.

"You know, Daniel, we could have just used my ghost portal. We could have been there and back by now." Vlad said, or rather shouted. It was hard to have a quiet conversation whilst flying at god-knows-what miles per hour.

"We couldn't, I closed off the Fenton Portal so no one gets in and no one gets out."

"Oh. In that case, there's something you should know. When I visited you at the hotel earlier, I came through your portal."

"You did _what,_ how!" A look of shock appeared on Danny's face as thoughts of the guys in white getting access to the ghost zone and _destroying it_ flashed through his mind.

"Well... In the many years that we've been enemies, I installed an emergency protocol. Kind of like a 'back door' that only I could open. When I couldn't easily get through your portal, I figured you'd locked it up, so I reprogrammed it so that you too could operate said 'back door'."

"How does that work?"

"It's quite complicated and I'd have to give you _hours_ of programming lessons for you to understand half of how it works. Basically, all you have to do is place your hand on the door and say your name, and it will open. The voice recognition software picks up on the exact frequency of your voice and activates the sensors that detect the unique ectoplasmic signature that is tied up within your DNA." He smirked, feeling quite proud of himself. "It's efficient, but it's not without flaw, you can only pass through it if you are in ghost form and if anyone _or anything_ else tries to get through, they will be instantly vaporised. It's really quite dangerous, but I didn't have much time to perfect it and I wanted it to be deadly to some degree anyway."

He wanted it to be deadly, Danny thought, how very _Vlad _of him.

"Alright, I'm just going to nod my head and pretend that I understood that entire _DNA protoplasmic_ _software_ thing you just said. We're nearly there, by the way." He said, looking ahead at the glittering city lights of Amity Park. It was a beautiful sight to behold. "Wow, I didn't notice how dark it was."

"Amity Park is a brilliant city at night." Vlad said, gazing not at the brightly lit sight ahead of them, but instead at Danny. His stare lingered for slightly longer than what was considered _socially acceptable_, but Danny didn't seem to notice. The way the light bounced off of Danny's face made him look so _heavenly_, yet scarily vulnerable at the same time. The light cast dark shadows across his face, highlighting the tiredness and pain that was etched in to his every feature of late.

It wasn't fair. Daniel was a good kid. When Vlad got his ghost powers, there was no denying that he used them purely for personal gain and he'd enjoyed every minute of it. He possessed significant political influence around the globe. He had physical, financial and social power and it felt _good_. Daniel wasn't like that; Daniel had used his powers to protect people from the things that threatened to hurt them, ghost related or otherwise. He'd put his own _precious_ life on the line to save people he didn't even know. He could have had the entire world wrapped around his little finger but instead of fame and fortune; instead of _success_, he had chosen notoriety and _bad grades_. He had chosen to sacrifice his dreams of being an astronaut, of working for NASA and being rich and happy, all in favour of fighting for what he believed in. _Fighting for what he loved_.

It wasn't fair that such a _**good**_ person ended up losing everything, he just didn't deserve it.

They soon arrived at Dash's house. It was quite a big building that stood alone and had a decent amount of land surrounding it. There was a gardener equipped with a lawn mower, tackling a garden that looked like it hadn't been_ tackled_ in a quite some time. It was strange, though, for a gardener to be out after dark.

Vlad and Danny hovered above the house, taking cover behind the bright glare of a street light.

"I don't think he has it anymore." Danny said suddenly, folding his arms tightly across his chest and looking somewhat shell-shocked.

"Explain."

"I was here a week or so ago and this place was a mess. I mean, it was in total disrepair and the whole place desperately needed a fresh coat of paint. Now look at it, aside from the yard, it looks great. And he has a _swimming pool, _Vlad_, a swimming pool. H_e definitely did not have a pool before." He took a deep breath, feeling an odd yet familiar panicked sensation closing in on him. "I think he sold the PDA. The question is, to whom?"

"My first instinct would be a ghost, for example Skulker. He's been out to get you for a long time, except ghosts don't tend to pay with US Dollars, which means a human buyer" Vlad said thoughtfully, not unaware of Danny's sudden agitation.

"The guys in white," Danny said suddenly, "It has to be."

"And they are...?"

"Government ghost hunters. It makes sense, they've got money and they certainly have motive." He cracked a smile out of nowhere, "Listen to us, we sound like detectives. This whole thing is like a really messed up episode of _CSI_."

"Daniel, if what you're saying is correct, then there's a good chance that we are about to step right into a trap, that is if we haven't already. If these guys are government, I wouldn't be surprised if they have the entire premises under high surveillance. You know government types - they couldn't be any more paranoid if they tried."

"Actually, I don't know government types at all, but I'll take your word for it" He paused for a moment, before speaking again. "I did something bad before I left here... To him, I mean."

Vlad gave him a look, silently urging him to continue.

"Dash said something about what happened on television. Something I considered to be highly disrespectful..."

"You roughed him up?" Vlad interrupted with a smirk. Danny felt a pang of anger_; this was not a laughing matter. _

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I believe the word he used was _'cool'_. I was watching the news coverage of what happened, and when that arrogant little..." He stopped and audibly cleared his throat, having difficulty thinking of a non-swear word to describe Dash. "... I came to Amity Park immediately to rip out his non-vital organs and force them down his throat, but when I got here, the job had already been done," He shrugged, "to a less psychotic degree, at least_._ What can I say, I saw red._"_

Danny gave a one sided smile, it was funny in a sick and twisted and _somewhat sadistic_ kind of way. But it was soon lost on him as his conscience decided that it was time to fight back just a little bit more.

"Seriously, though. It scares me that I could be capable of that. I mean, I've done some real numbers on ghosts and criminals alike. I've kicked some major ass in my time, caused my fair share of potentially fatal injuries and the like." He turned his head away from Vlad slightly, masking his features in darkness. "But I've never done that before. I've never hurt someone for the sake of hurting them, just because they said something that rubbed me up the wrong way."

Vlad placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Don't think about it. You did something reckless at a time when you were emotionally raw. If there is anyone to blame, then it is _him_ for saying something so thoughtless and insensitive - on national television, no less." He removed his hand and crossed his arms. "He knew that you were still alive and he knew that there was a good chance you would have seen the report and heard what he said, but he didn't care because he didn't think you had the power to do anything about it. He had no idea that you did have the power until it was too late."

"Cause and effect..." Danny said absently.

"Exactly, so stop_ obsessing _with guilt over giving that little _cretin_ what he so _rightfully_ deserved. Besides, you have far more important things to think about, such as how you intend on retrieving that PDA of yours."


	16. The Beginnings of a Plan

"The way I see it, I don't have a choice. I have to get the PDA otherwise I risk _a)_ serious injury, _b)_ fatal injury or _c)_ my secret going public."

"So what do you propose we do?"

"I'd say go in there and interrogate Dash but they're probably keeping a close eye on the place, so there's a good chance that it's a trap... I'm more or less convinced that the guys in white have something to do with this and I know the location of their nearest headquarters, and I know how to get in undetected." His brow furrowed, his arms folded tightly. "But if my assumption is wrong and they aren't behind this, we'd be risking our lives for nothing."

"Risking our _lives_, really?" Vlad said incredulously.

"They are eccentric with their white suits and _germ phobia_, but don't be fooled. I've seen their personnel files. All of their employees are all ex-military, or people with shady backgrounds, _hired guns_, you know the like. The kind of people you don't want to mess with."

"I'm assuming they have some kind of ghost tech?"

"You got it. They scavenged a lot from my parents but as you've probably noticed, they're inventors, not perfectionists." He cringed inwardly as he mentally corrected himself. They _were_ inventors, _were_. "My parents would build some sort of device or weapon that wouldn't quite work the way it was intended to. Then, the guys in white would buy it and make it a _lot _better. I have a man on the inside. He's the one who got me the necessary security codes to access the personnel files. He's a doctor. Well, I _say _doctor, he lost his medical licence a while for stitching me up."

"What do you mean? Did he set you up for something?"

"Oh no, I mean he _literally_ stitched me up. I got shot. I didn't have the necessary tools to treat myself at home, and I couldn't exactly check in to a hospital. I was seventeen at the time, a _minor_; they would have asked too many questions that I wouldn't have been able to answer. SoI broke in instead, and he walked in on me trying to get the bullets out myself. He offered his help and I wasn't really in a position to turn it down."

"You were _shot_! Wait. You said _'bullets'_, as in plural?" Vlad was disconcerted to say the least. Daniel was shot? As far as serious injuries went, that was a pretty serious one indeed. Vlad had never been shot. One of the advantages of being a ghost was heightened reflexes. He should have gone intangible the split second that the gun was fired. Hell, he should have been intangible _anyway._

"He probably saved my life, but he was fired because an _'anonymous source'_ reported it and supplied photographic evidence. Soon after his dismissal, he was offered a job with the guys in white in the 'biological studies department'" He smirked, "Luckily for me, he was a _smart_ guy. He got in touch with me and told me about the job offer, and asked me what I made of it. I believe that the '_anonymous source'_ was somehow affiliated with the guys in white, and that they intended for him to work for them all along. Ergo, I have an inside man."

Vlad didn't fail to notice Danny's evasiveness, and made a mental note to question him about it later on.

"So I'll call him and ask him if he's heard anything about the PDA. It's more or less risk free."

"Wouldn't he have called you? And what do you mean by 'more or less' risk free?"

"He doesn't have my number. We keep in touch via a blog he updates daily. If he doesn't update, it means he is in trouble that I have to go and get him out of. It's a simple arrangement, but it works." He bit his lip. "Well, kind of. I haven't checked since... you know, but I will check now."

He took out his phone. It was some kind of smart phone inside of what looked to be a very sturdy case. There was a large crack going right down the middle of the screen, but Danny didn't seem to mind. Within seconds he'd pressed a _million_ buttons at _light speed_ and was on some kind of webpage. Honestly, Vlad wasn't exactly a phone fanatic. I wasn't that he was _technologically challenged_ or a _'technophobe'_, quite the opposite in fact. You have to stay with the times if you want to maintain any level of success in the business world.

"What?"

"Huh?

"Why are you giving my phone weird looks? I think it's in quite good shape, all things considered."

"It's not _that_, I just don't get _teenagers_ and their _teenager _habits, namely texting - texting _ferociously,_ on a device where the buttons are four times smaller than your fingers. It shouldn't be possible."

"Vlad, you're _such _an old man." Danny cracked a huge smile and, within seconds, was laughing out loud. Vlad found himself with a rather large grin on his face, he couldn't help it. Danny's laugh was contagious, and it felt like it had been so long since he had even seen the boy smile, let alone laugh, let alone laugh _out loud_.

"Here, the latest post. I think he's telling me to contact him. Do you need your reading glasses?" He couldn't hide the cheeky smirk that made its way onto his face.

"Oh, ha-ha, you're not funny." Vlad replied in mock-seriousness as he looked at the screen.

'**Feeling lonely, wish I had someone to talk to.  
>Posted today, 10.32am' <strong>

"I think it's time to give my old friend a call, don't you?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry if this all seems a little rushed, it only seems that way because it is rushed. I'm starting an course in applied sciences in a few days, and I want this out of the way for then. _

_While I'm making an author's note, THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HAVE LEFT ME A REVIEW. I _**LOVE**_ REVIEWS. _


	17. The Final Touches

Vlad and Danny found themselves sitting by the window in a small diner just outside of the main city. The sky was dark and cloudy, not a star in sight. It had not long since started raining and the light glittered across the now wet pavement. It was quiet aside from the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the window. The two of them were the only people in the diner aside from the waitress who had brought them both a cup of nice warm coffee and a menu.

"Why are we here, again?" Vlad complained, stirring his coffee somewhat excessively and looking thoroughly displeased with their current surroundings.

"What's wrong, this place not fancy enough for your liking?" Danny replied, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. "We're here because it's ordinary. We're just two ordinary guys sitting in a non-descript diner. They don't usually actively monitor all the calls that go in and out of the HQ, but I feel better taking precautions just in case."

"What are you waiting for?" Vlad said, watching Danny as he flipped the phone in his hands, tapping its edges on the table top and staring at it, deep in concentration, as if it was the most important thing in the world. Given the situation, it kind of _was_ the most important thing in _Danny's_ world right now.

"I don't know. I just feel guilty, I guess." Vlad's hands appeared out of nowhere and pushed his phone out of his hands and on to the table, effectively putting a stop to his distraction and an end to his train of thought, silently urging him to elaborate. "He took care of me for a few days after I was shot. I told my parents I was staying with Tucker. I was in no fit state to go home." Danny's voice was suddenly a little strange, but Vlad decided to push on.

"You still didn't tell me about that."

"I was in a lot of pain once the adrenalin wore off. He risked his job smuggling me out of the hospital. His living room ended up looking like an infirmary. He had me on a morphine drip that was held up by a lamp and a_ coat hanger_. I tried to stay awake, but I eventually lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in my human form. He could have easily handed me over to god _knows_ who and I would have been utterly powerless to stop him, but he didn't." He picked up the phone and flipped it open. "I ruined his life once already. I'm not sure I can handle doing it again."

"Daniel, you're my god son. I have connections. I can have him reinstated to the medical panel at the drop of a hat. You protect his life, I'll protect his livelihood." Vlad smiled confidently. "Make the call."

Danny nodded, and typed in a number by heart.

_"Hey babe, it's me._

_I'm fine, thanks. I've been feeling much better. You'd never know I was ever even sick. How are you?_

_I'm glad to hear it. I've missed you so much, babe, we have so much to talk about. How's work?_

_Wow, really? What kind of rumours?_

_Did they find out what's on it?_

_Oh, that's too bad. Listen, I'm thinking I might pop by later on. You and I can catch up, like we said we would._

_Okay, see you later babe, I love you too, bye!"_

He snapped the phone shut, and looked mildly surprised to see Vlad's face, which was a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"Your _face_!" he laughed, "You can relax. It's how we communicate in case someone is listening in. Calling him '_babe_' is like saying '_hey, it's Danny!_ , and the '_sickness'_ is a code for the bullet wounds. _'Popping by'_ is to warn him that I'm going to be inside the base, and _'catching up like we said we would'_ tells him that he is to maintain his cover." He smirked, "Homophobia is a _huge _taboo in the work place, discrimination rules being what they are. Therefore, what better cover than being a gay lover? No one in their right mind would question it for fear of getting on the wrong side of _human resources_."

"Wow, I can see you have really thought this through, consider me impressed."

"It was a joint effort I guess, but we did put a lot of work into making sure that there was no way they would trace him back to me." He turned the phone off and shoved it in his pocket. "So they don't track it or anything." Vlad couldn't help but smile a little. It was remarkable how intelligent and _professional_ Danny sounded. For someone who had barely managed to scrape by in High School, this was surprising to say the least. Vlad had always assumed that Danny relied mostly on _luck_ and perhaps strength, but it was beginning to seem as if Danny was much smarter than Vlad had ever given him credit for.

"So, how are we going to do this?"

"That's a good question, do you have a pen?" Danny watched as Vlad reached into the breast pocket of his _probably-designer_ suit, and practically snatched the silver pen he brought out.

"Thanks." He said as he grabbed a napkin and unfolded it, and started drawing lines all over the place.

"What are you doing?"

"Sh. Just... Hang on." Danny mumbled, hunched over the table and not taking his eyes away from the napkin that was quickly becoming a work of art. Lines were beginning to connect together and form shapes, and the shapes were beginning to show an increasingly clear pattern.

"Are those blueprints? You remembered the _entire_ schematics of the building?" Vlad asked, astonished. Danny had stopped drawing lines and started labelling his makeshift map, before sitting up straight and looking at Vlad.

"Yes." He tapped a box on the map, right in the centre. "His is where we need to be... I think. It's the technology suite. He said they hadn't got into it yet, which means they're probably still working on it. Unfortunately," he slid his finger across the map, out of the room and down a long corridor until they reached a small boiler room. "This is where we will enter the facility, which means we have to cross half of the building to get there..." He leaned back away from the table and took a deep breath in and out, running his hands back through his hair. "Getting in is the easy part, it's moving once we are there that will be difficult. The walls are ghost proof and they have security checkpoints at the end of every corridor and on every door in the building, which means we're going to have to steal someone's access card."

"Can't we just use your friend's?"

"It's risky. I'm willing to bet that the PDA is one of their top priorities. If it suddenly goes missing then they're going to connect the dots." Suddenly, Danny's demeanour changed all together. He lit up like a Christmas tree; Vlad could practically see the light bulb appear above his head. "I've got it. There generator is outside of the facility. If we can cut that off, then of their defences will go down for a good twenty seconds or so before the backup generator kicks in. We can go in through the roof and drop straight in to where we need to be. Once we're in, getting out becomes a whole lot easier because we'll be surrounded by technicians with access cards. Getting to the boiler room will be easy as _pie_!"

Vlad felt a broad smile make its way on to his face. Something like pride bubbled up in his chest, this was amazing. Daniel was _intelligent._ Where had he been hiding _that _all these years? Within the space of a few hours, Vlad had learned not only that Danny had been _shot_, but that he had a friend working inside the government_ and_ he had a brain. An actual functioning _brain_ with what was quite possibly a photographic memory. It was brilliant, just _brilliant_.

"Daniel, this is remarkable. You really are quite the strategist." He pushed back his seat and stood up, placing a few bills on the table. "Shall we? I'm growing increasingly tired of this place."

"Let's" Danny replied, standing and following Vlad out of the diner and into the rain.

This was going to be _interesting._


	18. Infiltration

They crouched in the shadows, hiding from the sight of the two heavily armed guards that were blocking the locked gates to the electrified metal cage, the only thing standing between Danny and Vlad, and the generator. It was a large machine that emitted a strange, low hum and put out a _lot_ of heat.

"Okay, this was a bad idea. I have no idea whatsoever how to shut this thing down." Danny said dumbly, glaring through the caging as if his frustration alone would cause it to spontaneously combust. "I mean what the _actual_ hell? This wiring is literally all over the place. I can't tell which ones are important and which ones aren't. I guess we _could_ just blow the whole thing up, but I was hoping not to make a scene. They'd know we were here, and that's one thing we definitely don't need."

"I'll bet the guards have a key," Vlad suggested, "We take them out easily enough."

"I _told_ you already, they're _good_. They use technology from my parents' inventions, in particular, the _spectre-deflector_, do you remember it?"

"Should I?" Vlad said with a raised eyebrow at the frankly ridiculous name.

"I was around fourteen at the time. We were at your house in the middle of nowhere. I tricked you in to hugging me, and then I snapped it around your waist. It was a sort of belt." He smirked, _"You tricked me! You little rat!" _He exclaimed in a high-pitched, pompous sounding voice, before snickering to himself.

"I do _not_ sound like that!" Vlad exclaimed, sounding almost exactly like Danny's imitation. And that was _it_, Danny was in _utter_ hysterics. "_Oh, ha-ha..."_ Vlad said sarcastically.

"Hey! You there! This is a restricted area!" shouted an angry sounding guard. Within seconds, they found themselves boxed in by two very dangerous looking guns pointing right in their direction. "Hold on a second. Hey Jim, is that _Phantom_?" said the larger of the two, looking considerably less confident that he had looked just a moment ago.

"I think it is boss. Well isn't that lucky? We are going to get the mother of all bonuses for bringing _him_ in!"

"You wish!" Danny lunged forward, punching 'Jim' square in the nose, sending him flailing backwards. He yelped and stumbled away from the guard as something not unlike an electric shock coursed through his entire body. "_Ouch!_ Like I was saying, physical contact is a _no-no_."

Vlad didn't waste any time in blasting the other guard with what he considered to be a rather weak attack. The guy never stood a chance. He was thrown a good distance and landed painfully on his side, a sickening crack coming from his shoulder, before rolling another metre or two. After that, he lay unmoving and apparently completely out of it.

"This guy is done." Said Danny, inspecting the damage he'd done to Jim's face. "He has a _very_ broken nose, and he's unconscious. Oh _man_, I didn't mean to hit him_ that _hard." He said, scratching his head sheepishly. He took the guard's radio and threw it on the ground, stamping on it and crushing it into pieces. "Well this should buy us at least some time, should they wake up before we're gone."

"Good idea" Replied Vlad. He grabbed the guard's radio and vaporized it in his hand, before snatching the ring of keys from the guy's belt. "Well, that solves that problem." He grinned, tossing the keys to Danny. "I'll keep a look out. And by the way, as a matter of fact _yes_, I do recall the '_spectre deflector'_. It was the night you and your mother stole my helicopter." He said with a mock sulk. "I _liked _that helicopter."

"Oh wow, um, _awkward_. We actually took it apart and used it to build a ship so that we could travel into the ghost zone. Well, so that _they_ could go into the ghost zone." He smiled mischievously. "If it's any consolation, it was a really great ship." He said as he placed the largest key into the lock on the gate to the generator.

"It _was_ a really great ship, _past tense_?" He raised an eyebrow, "Do I even _want_ to know?"

"I crashed it a year or so ago in the forests near your place. It's probably still there. I did try to get it up and running again, but the circuitry was fried. Hey, when we go back to Wisconsin we should go and find it. At last you'll be reunited with your precious _ex_-helicopter."

"That we shall, my dear boy. Ah, success," He said as the gate swung open. "What now?"

"Hmm. Well, after all the years I have spent studying under my parents, learning the ins-and-outs of electronics, and building myself a decent foundation of knowledge about all things technological... It is my _scientific _opinion that we should start ripping out random wires until all the lights go out." He said, opening a metal door on the side of the generator, revealing a mass of multi-coloured wires and switches. "Agreed?"

"Agreed" Vlad smiled, now _that_ was more like Danny.

Danny reached in and grabbed a hand full of wires and shot Vlad a nervous grin, before tearing them out. The generator began to spark violently, making odd whirring sounds and clanking as if it was about to explode, or maybe implode, or do _something_ generally_ destructive_. As predicted, the lights in the facility went out.

"Let's go!" Danny yelled, taking off into the sky, followed closely by Vlad. They landed on the roof of the building. "I'm pretty sure we are standing right on top of the technology suite."

"You're _pretty sure_?"

"I'm like, 99% sure. Going down?" They phased through the roof and straight into what was quite obviously the much anticipated technology suite.

The room was pretty dark. There were a few laptops that had remained powered, emitting a dim light, as well as a couple of guys in lab coats holding torches. In the centre of the room was a large cylinder, containing some very strange looking plants that seemed to _move_. They appeared to be suspended in some sort of ectoplasmic fluid that held a strange glow and cast a green shine throughout the room.

Danny and Vlad landed invisibly by the cylinder. "Wow, that's messed up." Danny observed, staring at the largest of the plants. "Is it like, _alive_?"

"It certainly looks that way." Vlad glanced at a hastily scribbled label that was stuck to the cylinder. "_Undergrowth sample 01._ That name sounds familiar. _Undergrowth_, where have I heard that before?"

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, eliciting a quiet applaud from the members of staff present. Vlad glanced around the room and did a quick head count. "Twelve people, that's not so bad. Can you see the PDA anywhere?"

"_Can you hear that_?" Danny said distractedly, pressing his hands to the glass of the cylinders.

"Hear what?" Vlad replied.

"It's coming from in there." Danny said, panic evident in his voice, just slightly tinged with curiosity. "Can't you hear it? It's whispering. Oh god, it hurts my head. But, oh..." he closed his eyes, "It's kind of peaceful sounding."

"I can't hear anything. Daniel, you know, you're acting a _little bit_ like a crazy person. What's happening?" Vlad waited a few moments for a reply, but Danny said nothing, instead staring trance-like at the bizarre plant behind the glass. Vlad opted to reach out and squeeze his shoulder. They really didn't have the time for this. "Daniel?"

He immediately jumped as he snapped out of it, shaking his head a little and wobbling as if he was dizzy. "Huh. Oh." He muttered, scratching his head. "That was weird."

"Yes, it was. What happened?"

"I'm not sure. It was bizarre, like it was in my head or something. Oh, hey, look at the guy with the glasses." He said, walking towards an odd looking fellow who was tinkering with a handheld-sized device. He stopped and inspected it, gasping as he saw what it was. "That's it!" He silently yelled at Vlad as to not get the technician's attention. "That's the PDA!"

"How are we going to get it?" Vlad mouthed in response, raising an eyebrow. He crossed to Danny and stood right behind him and whispered over his shoulder, quietly in his ear. "We can't exactly just take it from right under his nose." Danny was trying to think of a solution to the problem, _he really was_, but doing so was becoming increasingly difficult as he became increasingly aware of his proximity to Vlad. He could_ feel_ the warmth radiating off of the other half ghost, the raw static _power_ that surrounded the other half ghost made his skin _tingle_. It was _intoxicating_. And that voice, that velvet sweet _purr _that slithered into Danny's ears and slow danced around his head, lingering for a long time after the words had left Vlad's lips.

He turned his head to answer Vlad's question, almost bumping noses with him. This was awkward, a_nd simmering hot, b_ut Vlad didn't seem to notice, and Danny would be damned if he let on exactly _what _was going through his head at that very moment. No, damned wasn't quite the right word, try _embarrassed beyond all conceivable belief._

"I'll create a diversion. You get the PDA, okay?" He whispered, finding himself staring into Vlad's eyes. They burned red like fire, but were in fact more like blood in colour. He'd only ever seen Vlad's ghost form this close whilst in battle, during which they were trying to kill each other, which could be pretty distracting to say the least. He looked back to the technician, and noticed the security card hanging around his neck. He pointed at it, before turning back to Vlad.

"I'll get that too." Vlad nodded, placing a firm hand on the small of Danny's back. "Go." Danny returned the nod, and flew across the room towards the glass cylinder at full speed.

Blaring alarms sounded as the cylinder smashed and green _goo _splashed all over the floor.

The technician spun around in shock, his mouth agape at the sight of the shattered cylinder. Vlad took the opportunity to snatch the security card from around his neck, followed by the PDA.

The technician failed to notice this as the plants, which were rapidly growing out of the remains of the cylinder and filling the entire room with roots and leaves and flowers, had his _full _attention.

He and Danny glanced at each other, before shooting toward the door. Vlad swiped the card across the sensor and smiled in success as it clicked open. They hurried out and into the corridor, closing the door firmly behind them.

"It's this way!" Danny yelled, rushing down the corridor, followed closely by Vlad. They turned a sharp corner and suddenly, a huge, excessively muscular man came out of nowhere, wearing an immaculate white dress shirt, the obligatory sunglasses and carrying a gun that was almost as big as Danny. He fired without warning and a bright green light smashed into them, sending them crashing into the opposite wall.

Danny winced as he opened his eyes, only to see the ominous looking man striding towards them. He let out a pained groan as he attempted to push himself up, only to be hauled to his feet by Vlad.

"Thanks," he gasped, "Vlad, I... I'm still kind of weak from the battle with Dan. We need to take this guy down _fast._" He groaned in pain, "How did he even see us? I mean, we were invisible, weren't we?"

Vlad looked the guy over. "It must be the glasses. It makes sense. Why else would they wear them inside?"

Danny had '_because they are douche bags' _on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't have time to actually say the words as another four guards came out of nowhere, all massively muscular and wielding guns that were equally as huge as the first guy's, aiming pointedly at the two half ghosts, effectively cornering them. Danny looked at the four of them, up and down, sizing them up.

"_We're toast." _


	19. Indignation

"Danny, listen to me. I don't have much time. I don't know if you can hear me, but I need you to listen to me." The voice was soft and seemed to float around his mind. Everything was such a bright shade of white, shapeless and so very clean, yet quiet and non-invasive at the same time. He blinked his eyes and tried to remember what was happening, but nothing really came to him. The world was so blurry, so unfocussed. But the voice wasn't. The voice, though a whisper, seemed harsh and just that little bit too loud to be anything _like _pleasant, and yet it comforted him. He knew that voice, he knew who it belonged to, didn't he? "It's me. It's Jack, Jack Ryan."

He opened his mouth and tried to speak, tried to make a noise, but only a single, croaked word escaped. "Jack?"

_Doctor Jack Ryan, his man on the inside, a friend. The man who makes the pain go away. _

"Yes, Danny, it's me. They've given you a drug, a sort of anti-ectoplasm narcotic tranquilizer. I'm sure you'd love to hear the chemistry behind it, but I only have a few minutes and there's so much I need to tell you. Okay?"

_No, no. It wasn't okay. It definitely was not okay because what the hell was going on? What happened, where was Vlad? _

He felt the all-too-familiar burning sensation in his throat as it seemingly started to close, his senses becoming clogged with panic. He needed to get up, he needed to go and find Vlad and get out of here. But he couldn't. He couldn't move a damn muscle. If he could just see what was going on, see where he was and who was there with him, but everything was so bright, it was blinding. Everything was so loud and quiet and _confusing_.

A gentle hand rested on his forehead and stroked his hair back, all warm and gentle. "Shhh, Danny, don't panic. You really need to calm down."

"Vlad," He choked out, weakly pushing up against the hand on his forehead, pulling at what _felt _like leather restraints around his arms and wrists, legs and ankles, torso and stomach.

"He's fine. I got him out. He's coming back for you. Don't worry." The man's hand continued to stroke his hair. He was close, now. Danny could feel the man's breath on the side of his face, next to his ear. "Danny, I really don't have time. Listen, they are going to put an electronic chip in your ear. It's a fairly new program and even I don't have access to the finer details of it. They've developed a device that is capable of influencing a ghost's thoughts. It messes with your brain waves. It isn't mind control, but it isn't far from it. It's tiny, like, _really _tiny. It goes in your ear and is pretty much undetectable if you aren't already looking for it. They will be watching you with your own two eyes. Just try to hold on to this conversation, don't forget what I'm telling you, you have to _go human_. Do you hear me? _Go human_. You have to... _Danny_? _Can you hear me, Dann_y?"

The man's voice was panicked now, he felt a gentle slap to his cheek, and then a slightly harder one, but it didn't matter. He couldn't make head or tail of what the man was saying anymore. His words were blending in and out of each other. But one thing stuck, well two, actually. Two words going round and round his head, glued to the tip of his tongue and to the back of his mind:

_**Go human. **_

He felt something gentle on his forehead, it felt almost like a kiss but _no_, it couldn't be that, could it? It hardly mattered anymore because the world was gone and in its place was darkness.

It was funny, really, a sort of tragic_ 'rips your heart out of your chest'_ kind of funny. Not too long ago, Danny had been on a makeshift operating table with his (soon to be) friend/lover/_it's complicated_ digging through his abdomen with a scalpel and a pair of surgical tweezers trying to dig out a bullet or two and various other bits of shrapnel. He'd been high and half out of it on god only knows _what _painkillers, probably elephant tranquilizers. It felt kind of the same, only not the same at _all_, because although back then he had been in an unsterile kitchen, he'd willingly entrusted the _then_-doctor with his life.

This time around, however, he was in a sterile _freak _facility, likely surrounded by strange men in lab coats who saw him as an abomination test subject and nothing more, and he was _scared_.

Why did he have to wait? Why couldn't he just leave now, escape _with Vlad_ and never look back? What did they want with him? And what was Doctor Ryan even talking about, mind control? _Mind control_...?

_Mind control doesn't happen in real life, how utterly absurd. Mind control is a) a form of psychological manipulation performed by highly skilled experts or The Mentalist, or b) science fiction. _

His consciousness continued to blur around the edges. He was vaguely aware of people talking, conversing with one another, but it sounded so far away. He couldn't make out who the voices belonged to or what they were saying. He couldn't see them. He couldn't really feel much of anything. He wondered if the way he was feeling was what dying felt like; a lack of understanding of anything, followed by a bleak, dream-like nothingness.

The voices seemed to be moving further and further away, and he had no desire to follow them.

When he next awoke, the first thing he was aware of was the distinct smell of cigar smoke. He peeled his eyes open, trying to ignore the dull ache it caused in the back of his head. He found himself face to face with a somewhat looking man standing to his right, wearing an expensive looking white suit and smoking a cigar. He looked oddly out of place in what appeared to be some kind of high-tech operating theatre.

"He's waking up, I see." The man spoke, his voice gritty and low. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"No, our estimates indicate that he shouldn't have regained consciousness yet, he's not due to wake up for couple of hours or so, in fact. He must be more powerful than we anticipated." Danny glanced to his left, noting the lanky scientist staring at a clipboard, and another couple of scientists staring at computer screens that Danny couldn't see. He took a deep breath and _damn_, his mouth was dry.

"Where am I?" Danny said suddenly, eyeing the man. "Did I take a wrong turn and end up on the set of The Godfather?" _Shit_, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. He couldn't help himself. He felt like his vocal chords had been given a shot of adrenalin. So many words were pouring out of his brain and directly to his mouth, he could barely just hold them in. There were so many questions just waiting to be asked, and none of them would be answered if he pissed off his present company.

The man looked angry for a moment, but proceeded to grin in a non-threatening manner, or _non-threatening enough_, anyway.

"Phantom, it's good to finally see you awake. Do you know where you are?" He spoke slowly, before taking a deep puff of his cigar and blowing it practically in Danny's face as he added, "And no, I'm afraid this isn't the set of The Godfather."

Danny paused for a moment to consider his answer. He could vaguely remember beaching the perimeter of the guys in white HQ, and judging by how much everything ached, he'd been in a fight or two. He looked at his hands, and then the rest of his body. His knuckles were bruised badly, and there was a bandage wrapped tightly around his right elbow. He was wearing some kind of grey sweatpants and a _too-tight_ white T-shirt, and it felt like there was some kind of bandaging under there too. There were thick, brown leather straps over his wrists, upper arms, across his torso, and around his thighs and ankles. He didn't need to test to see if they were ghost proof or not because he already knew that they would be, but he tried nonetheless.

"Some kind of hospital, I guess. Am I sick?" He said dumbly, staring at the man innocently. Of course he wasn't sick. He was a prisoner of some kind. But it didn't hurt to fish for information, and that's exactly what he intended to do.

"You think...? No, you are not _sick_. Tell me, boy, to what extent do you recall your current predicament?" The man asked, tapping his cigar and watching as the ashes fluttered to the ground. _So he was a big shot, then_. Smoking indoors – smoking a _cigar_ indoors, no less.

"Not much, how did I get here?" He paused, looking around him and taking in as much of his surroundings as he could. "No, wait, actually, where _is_ here? And who are you?"

"I'm The Boss." He said, after a moment of careful consideration.

"_The Boss_?" Danny repeated back to him, dumbly.

"The Boss."

"...The _Boss_." Danny couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Who called themselves 'The Boss'? _Was that supposed to be intimidating?_ "Is that supposed to be intimidating?" Danny would have slapped his hands over his mouth if his hands weren't currently out of commission. Shit, he had _not_ meant to ask that out loud. What was wrong with him? "It's as if my self control has left the building." He said, again, not really meaning to. "_Shit_."

"Ah, that's our doing, I'm afraid. I'm going to ask you again, what do you remember about last night?" The Boss, as he called himself, was obviously trying his absolute hardest to be as friendly as possible, but his impatience was becoming more and more evident.

"I lost everything." He said, immediately regretting it. "They all died."

"Who died?"

"I..." c_an't say_? Danny cursed his inability to moderate what was coming out of his mouth. _What was wrong with him_? But he couldn't say _that_. If he did, they'd find out. They'd be able to link him to the Fenton deaths, and it would only be a matter of time before they deduced who he really was. "It doesn't matter."

"Is that right? Tell me the truth." His voice was even, calm, and yet commanding at the same time.

"There's nothing to tell." He said stubbornly, clenching his jaw. He was absolutely, definitely, most certainly _not _going to say anything else.

"Phantom, I _order _you to tell me who died." The Boss spoke sternly, the cigar falling from his lips and landing on the floor with a quiet 'thump'.

"They all died, everyone I love, and it was my fault. I tried _so _hard to save them, I did _everything _right, and _still_ they died." He blinked furiously at the ceiling, begging the tears to go away. He couldn't handle this, he really couldn't. It was as if all the single little pieces of information about his family's deaths were being fired from his brain, all at once and desperate to get out. "Still I end up alone."

He couldn't believe what he'd just told them. Oh, but at least he had been _non-specific_. As soon as the name '_Fenton_' started getting thrown around, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before his secret was blown wide open. But, wow, that had really hit home. Hearing his own voice admit that everyone he loved was dead... It _hurt_. It made the whole situation feel that little bit more real, that little bit more _painful. _

"Ghost tears, I've never seen _that _before. I'll bet they are worth a fortune on the black market." The Boss reached under the bed-like structure that Danny occupied, and revealed a small plastic container. He placed it under Danny's eye, and caught a few teardrops that had dared to escape.

"But boss, that's impossible. Ghosts can't cry. They are literally not physically capable of doing so. We've done extensive research on the matter, it's just not possible." He lanky scientist said, studying Danny closely. Honestly? He wanted to melt into the ground and disappear. _How embarrassing_, _crying in public. _

"And yet, here we are." He said, handing the container to the lanky scientist. "Run some tests on this and let me know what you find as soon as you find it."

"Yes sir, boss!" He said enthusiastically, running off. Danny heard the door slam behind him.

"As for you, Phantom, it's time to go back to sleep." He said, a large syringe appearing out of nowhere. Danny opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late, the needle was already in.

_Go human. _


	20. Redemption

"No, no! We can't give up on her, she can pull through this. I know she can!" Doctor Ryan shouted, tearing the surgical mask away from his face and snatching the defibrillator, "Charging!"

A dark haired man stepped forward and placed a steadying hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Come on, it's over. She can't take anymore. Look at her, Jack_, look at her_. She's eleven years old and she's been through so much. Don't you think she's suffered enough?" He said, looking into his eyes and willing him to stop. "Stop this, Jack, stop. It's _over_."

"You know what, Joey? You're right; she _has_ been through a lot. Damn it, she has fought this _so_ hard. We can't just give up on her." He said, begging his colleague to see sense, to stand aside and let him bring his patient back to life. But he didn't. Joey, as it were, stood firm.

"It's _over._" He said in a cool voice, taking hold of Jack's wrists and gently lowering the defibrillator back into its slot. "It's over." He repeated, softly this time. He glanced at a nurse, who nodded and silently pulled a sheet over the young girl's body.

"Time of death is 22.00 hours." She said, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

Jack was furious and devastated and in shock, all at the same time. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't. She was an innocent eleven year old girl who hadn't even been given the chance to live yet. She had been born with a rare heart defect that meant she would probably never make it into adulthood. How cruel, how very, _very_ cruel that was.

He tore off his gloves and apron, shoving them in the waste bin and storming out of the operating theatre. This day could not get any worse, or so he thought.

He was relieved to see that the break room was empty as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it and shit his eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down before he punched someone. As a general rule, a doctor never wants to lose a patient. In fact, losing a patient is the worst _possible_ scenario. People often assume that doctors get used to people dying, that it becomes part of their daily routine and that, after many years in the profession, it stops having such a profound impact on them.

_Bullshit. _

While it's fair to say that the first cut is the deepest, so to speak, the pain never really goes away. As for the pain of losing an eleven year old girl after years of reassuring her parents and sugar coating her impending premature death, yeah, that hurt. That hurt a _lot._

He opened his eyes and headed over to his locker, swallowing the nasty lump of grief that had formed in the back of his throat. Opening the door only served to worsen his mood as he noted the photograph blue tacked to the back of the door. It had been there for years, ever since his first shift when his _then_-girlfriend, _recently_-fiancé, _now-_ex had given it to him. It was a picture of the two of them in Italy, standing in front of the _Leaning Tower of Pisa_. But it was a badly taken photograph, slightly blurred and the way it was angled made it look as if the tower was poking out of Jack's head. It used to be funny, but now it was just sad. What he wouldn't give to go home and find her waiting for him to crawl into her arms and just let go because, _damn,_ he lost a _kid_.

He sighed audibly and tightened his jaw, forcing himself to man up. After changing into a pair of jeans and a shirt, he shoved his car keys and wallet in his pocket and made for the exit. He knew his colleagues would understand. There was no way he could stick around for the time being, he desperately needed some down time.

It was by chance, really. He was waiting for the lift and, after several minutes of waiting for a lift that probably wasn't coming any time soon, decided to take the stairs. On his way to the stairway, he happened to hear a distinct moan echoing along the nearest corridor. Someone was in trouble, he knew that much. Now, normally in a hospital, hearing someone moan in pain isn't uncommon, in fact, it happens on an _un_surprisingly regular basis. However, what wasn't uncommon was the fact that the ward in which the moan came from was currently out of order.

It was nothing serious, just basic maintenance. There were a few pipes that needed to be repaired, machinery that wasn't working quite the way it should, lights that flickered and such. It was just a number of small, unimportant matters that the general public apparently had significant enough issues with to warrant a general restoration of the entire ward, _as if budgets weren't tight enough already. _

The ward was _definitely s_upposed to be empty. So where did the moan come from?

Jack couldn't help himself; curiosity got the better of him as he started to creep down the corridor, systematically looking in every single room. There had to be someone nearby. Jack knew, or at least _hoped_, that he wasn't _quite _crazy enough to be hearing voices.

All of the rooms were dark, lit only by the dim overhead lights which were required to be lit at all times thanks to various health and safety regulations. After the third room, he was starting to think that he was insane. That maybe he imagined the moan or, _oh_, it drifted through the air conditioning or _something_. He was just about to turn back when he heard it again.

It was quieter this time, more like a stifled groan followed by a few sharp intakes of breath. He continued down the corridor, faster this time, looking in each and every room until he got to the final one. He glanced in through the door and, sure enough, there was a shadow lurking in the room.

He knew he had to be cautious, this man could be dangerous. He had, after all, snuck into an _off-limits_ hospital ward. He slipped his hand over the door handle and very carefully turned it, before easing it open.

He edged in slowly, as quietly as he could, closing the door behind him. As he turned back around to face the mysterious figure, he noticed something strange about the man, or rather _boy_, who had perched himself on the edge of one of the beds.

The first thing was his hair. It was white, like, _really _white. It was stuck up in every direction and it appeared to glow slightly, almost supernaturally. And then there were his eyes, a brilliant shade of electric green and – yes – they were most _definitely_ glowing. The third strange thing was the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and that there was blood _everywhere_.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He said without thinking, instantly wishing he hadn't. The boy looked up in shock and tried to get up, only to double over in pain and fall to the ground like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Within seconds, Jack was by his side, checking his pulse, before inspecting his injuries. Call it a _Doctor-reflex_. He really didn't have a choice in the matter.

It was difficult to see, but the injuries certainly_ looked_ like bullet holes. There were three of them, if he wasn't mistaken, one to the chest/shoulder area, and the other two to the abdomen. The wounds were a real mess and, if the bloodied tweezers hanging loosely from the boy's hand were anything to go by, they had been damaged further by an attempt at removing the bullets. An unsuccessful attempt, he might add.

The boy struggled, pushing weakly at Jack's hands and letting out strangled cries of pain.

"Please," he near-sobbed, "please stop." Jack looked at the boy, _really_ looked at him. He couldn't have been older than seventeen or maybe eighteen, at a push, and he was terrified and clearly in a _lot _of pain. Who wouldn't be? Most people would be unconscious after taking three bullets, never mind the state they would be in after trying (_and failing_) to remove them. But this was no ordinary person. No, Jack recognised him. He'd seen him before on television and in the newspapers, _and on wanted posters_.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Doctor Jack Ryan, and I'm going to help you, okay?" He said, playing a gentle hand on the boy's cheek, grimacing slightly upon noticing the bloodied handprint he left behind, before returning to his wounds.

"Why?" He said weakly, letting his arms fall numbly by his sides. "You know who I am, I can tell. Why would you help me?"

"You're Phantom." He said dismissively, as if it didn't matter at all.

"Why are you helping me?" His voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes watering up in a way that was just _heartbreaking_.

"Because you need a doctor, and I am a doctor." He replied simply. "But there's not much I can do in here. I'm going to get help. I'll be right back, okay?"

"No!" He cried, grabbing Jack's wrist. "No, you can't! Please, I just need... I just need to get the bullets out so I can heal. Please, I'm not human. I'll heal before I bleed out. No more doctors, _please,_ Doctor Ryan, no more doctors." His grip on Jack's wrist weakened before disappearing completely, he turned his head to the side and scrunched his face up in pain.

"But... You need help. Proper medical help, you've been shot three times, Phantom, _three times_! You need surgery, drugs - antibiotics and some _serious_ painkillers. Your wounds need to be sterilised, you need stitches and, god, probably therapy for post traumatic stress. I can't do that here." He was freaking out a little, and with it came what his ex-fiancé had termed '_word vomit'_, but surely that was acceptable, given the current situation and all. "And don't even get me _started _on how _wrong_ this is. Ghosts aren't supposed to bleed, and if they do bleed – which they might, because I'm honestly no expert, but if they _do _bleed, then they don't bleed red. _Humans_ bleed red."

The boy turned his head to face Jack, his eyes pleading with him to help him, to save him, to not let him die _like he had the little girl_. "Please, if the system gets hold of me then I will _die_. There are people who are after me. They will take me, they will run tests and poke and prod me until they get _bored_, and then they will _kill_ me." He took a deep, steadying breath, and lifted himself onto his elbows, despite the pain it so obviously caused him. "Doctor Ryan, I don't want to die. Please, just let me go."

"Let you go? I'm sorry, what? _Let you go_, are you serious? Have you even _seen_ the state you're in? Where the hell would you even _go_?" And just like that, an idea formed in Jack's head; a simple, brilliant (albeit incredibly stupid) idea. He would smuggle Phantom out of the hospital, along with any supplies he might need. He would take him home and nurse him back to health and then, and only then, could he be redeemed.

"Hey, Doc..." Phantom started, letting his read rest on the ground and smiling up at Jack in a somewhat dazed fashion, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk _way_ too much?" Without further warning, his eyes rolled shut and his head lolled to the side lifelessly.

Jack swallowed hard and panicked. _Shit._ If he was going to do something, he was going to have to do it right now, and _fast._

And that's exactly what he did.

Getting Phantom out of the hospital had not been easy. In fact, it had been about as far from easy as you can get.

In the end, he'd settled for shoving as many medical supplies as he could into a rucksack, throwing the unconscious ghost over his shoulder, and bolting it out of the fire escape and to his car. Aside from a security camera or two, he'd managed to go largely unnoticed. He was surprised, really. He had fully expected to encounter _at least_ one person asking questions that were practically impossible to answer.

He flung the seemingly boneless ghost into the passenger seat of his car, before breaking _god knows_ how many speed limits on his way to his apartment.

"This is crazy." He mused aloud, glancing at his passenger before locking his eyes firmly on the road. "This is absolutely crazy." He repeated, raking a hand through his hair. "This is the craziest thing I have _ever_ done in my _life_."

Phantom groaned as they went over a speed bump. "Don't worry, kid, we're nearly there. Just hold on a little while longer."


End file.
